


Things That Keep Family's Together

by Firelmp



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Blood, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Minor Violence, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:41:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 23,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firelmp/pseuds/Firelmp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every crew in Los Santo's is made up of various things, various feeling mixed with the sense of duty to your crew, but most crews don't run as deep as the Fake AH Crew, these are various snippets, and short little moments  that describe the  makeup of the dysfunctional family known as the most feared Gang in town, The Fake AH Crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confusion

“Don’t waste your time on me, love, I’m a lost cause.” The man with the dyed golden hair told her with a smile that never reached his candy apple green eyes that always hid behind golden sunglasses.   
The blue haired girl crossed her arms almost definitely “You don’t seem like a lost cause to me Mr. Free.”   
The Golden Boy just gave a tired chuckle, “That's part of my job, to never let people see what’s really going through my head. It's easier than you think to get someone to believe in complete bullshit, Officer.”  
Silence snuck its way into the conversation there, as much silence could in the always bustling city of Los Santos. On one side of one of the many seedy alleyways in the city was Ramsey’s infamous Golden Boy was at ease, this shit hole of a city had become his adopted home, a fresh start where maybe young, witty, Gavin Free could earn an honest life and hide from his past. Of course old habits died hard and after just three weeks of fishing for a job Gavin fell back into his old ways, gambling what little funds he had and earning enough with his perfect poker face and quick trigger finger and a cheap gun to buy himself a new set up where he could easily drain the overloaded bank accounts of the one percent with relative ease. Eventually, one thing led to another and he ended up under the very protected wing of Geoff Ramsey and his disfigured picture of a family that was the Fake AH Crew, who were all too happy to forget that their Golden boy had a possibly Dangerous past. And Gavin was okay with this, happy with it even. On the other side of the ally though was something Gavin was not happy with.  
On the other side of the ally, pointing a pretty confident gun with a not so confident finger resting on the trigger was Meg Turney, a cadet with a year out of the academy on her shoulders, who thought she could change the corrupt city with her do good agenda without realizing just how deep the corruption went. Hell, Gavin thought it was becoming something of a new recruit hazing thing where they would go after him and try to get him to betray his crew, his found family. It was starting to get annoying.  
Then, like all things the silence passed and Med re-aimed her gun, “Look, just tell me what I want to know and I won't bring you in, not now at least, cooperate now will only help you in the long run, I promise.”  
Gavin had to hide a smirk with a practiced to perfection poker face, “And what is it you would like to know?”  
Meg faltered, her gun dropping ever so slightly, she hadn't expected him to cooperate at all, she had expected him to fight and protest. Go on about how he wouldn't betray the Fakes like that or some other spiel a weak link would give.  
Gavin looked beyond the confused cop for a moment and say a supercar pull up on the curb on the other side of the street from the shitty, almost movie like, ally this confrontation was taking place in and he knew he had to hurry this up.  
“Look, love,” The Golden boy started, getting Meg's attention back on him and out of her own musings, “Next time you get me cornered like this actually have a plan on where you want to start taking my crew down from otherwise you're just wasting both of our times.” With a flourish of his hands to show he was unarmed he walked past the rookie cop, and with his back turned he waved, “Tata, Hope I don't have to put a bullet in your pretty little head soon.” and like that he was across the busy street and hopping into the waiting supercar with the Fakes symbol plastered on the sides and the hood, leaving Meg, like so many other rookie cops after their first encounter with the Golden Boy, confused.  
Meg’s barely livable apartment on the badish side of the city had been locked tight when she came home, and the rest of her home untouched, bit on the rinky, cheap dining room table she found a single golden flower, with a note attached with loppy almost cursive in a fine black ink, ‘Rule one of Los Santos: Learn quick or die young, you're smart so learn.’ The note was, ominous to say the least, but when Meg told others at the station about it they all nodded, almost fondly, most saying how the had gotten the same warning after their own attempt at getting Free to talk, some even said they found his cryptic advice helpful. Meg took the word to heart, and she started learning, a strong goal set to bring the Fakes to their knees, and maybe, just maybe find out more about the ever so elusive Golden Boy, and what made him a lost cause in the first place, along the way.


	2. Loss

"I have no words left for you, I won't waste my time here." Ray was fuming. The last heist had not ended in his favor, hell some would argue that everything went wrong only for him. And it seemed like none of his Crew members cared.

The others were let in silence in the heist room, mid-celebration when Ray glared at them and announced his leave. Gavin recovered the fastest, setting his drink down and running after the Puerto Rican, aiming to convince him to stay, it was his job to convince people after all. A maskless Vagabond followed the Golden Boy, his own convincing words getting in order on his tongue.

Before either of them could even start to try to convince Ray not to leave, Ray had a backpack on and was at the front door of the penthouse. "Stop, I'm done with this life, I'm done getting shot at and ignored by you all, I Just- I'm done." was all Ray said, and then the door was closed and Ray was gone.

They honest to god looked for Ray for three months in every way they could think of. But Ray was always one for slipping away unnoticed, and he was part of the crew so he could avoid their trackers and stay off their radar.

It took three months for the Fakes to give up and to experience true loss, they had lost a family member and it broke their hearts.

The city was confused when the Fakes took a month-long break, but the LSPD begin to understand when on the Fakes next heist there really was no sniper shots. The LSPD themselves had a day or mourning, It was always sad when one of your foes left.

The Fakes never really saw Ray again, and even years later they heard whispers of him, though, and that was really the only thing that kept the Fakes in the loop that Ray was alive,but still they suffered for their loss.


	3. Damaged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, really. I was tired when i wrote this so here ya go.

Jeremy Dooley raised his hands in front of him in a sign of surrender like he was being arrested, but no really he was just staring down the infamous Golden Boy Jeremy had heard insurmountable rumors about since he arrived in Los Santos "I'm not as damaged as I seem, I swear."

The Golden Boy just smiled, it almost seemed sad, Jeremy couldn't tell if it reached his eyes or not, the Golden Boy was wearing his gold-rimmed sunglasses, even in the dark dusk of the decaying city. "Damage is unavoidable in our line of work. If you're not as damaged as you seem then I'm afraid of what we'll do to you." The Brits accent was thick with melancholy, that got the Bostonian curious.

"How damaged are you then?" Jeremy took a defensive stance, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at the lanky taller man.

The Golden Boy let out a tired huff, a humorless laugh maybe or just a poor attempt at a sigh, Jeremy couldn't really decide. "Let's just say I'm a lost cause, but not so much that I can't hide it if I want to."

Jeremy knew this was a dangerous situation that he should get out of as soon as possible but still.... something about the accented in gold Brit in front of him made him feel comfortable, safe like he was catching up with an old friend. So the Bostonian shifted to a more comfortable stance, leaning against the dusky alley wall instead of standing ramrod straight in front of the Man "Why'd you stick to 'like of work' I bet you know it's only going to get worse the longer you stick with it."

The Golden Boy shrugged, a cold mid spring breeze sweeping the ally, "It's better than the alternative, stuck at a boring day job, walking through years like a programmable object, never really getting anything more than what you always had." he nodded to himself, that sad smile growing a little, "Yea, i would take what I do any day over that nightmare. So how 'bout you? Wanna climb out of that rut you were born into and get ahead in life or do you want to dig it deeper?"

Later, most likely when shit hit the fan, Jeremy might resent his decision to not just walk away, to live a normal life. But as it were the sirens song of riches and explosions drew in another victim. Jeremy walked out of the ally with the Golden Boy and into a waiting car where he was greeting with the smug face of Geoff and a motherly smile from Jack welcoming him to the Fake AH Crew


	4. Loyalty

"I will move sea and sky to ensure their safety." The notorious gang leader growled, no way in hell was he betraying his boys. His interrogator just gave a dark chuckle.

"I had heard of the loyalty within the ranks of the Fakes but I never imagined it would be this strong." The stereotype of an interrogator laughed unaware or uncaring at the wrath he had invoked upon kidnapping Los Santos leading gang boss Geoffrey Ramsey. "But really, I want answers to my questions, so let's start with the basics, where's your base of operations and where can I find the rest of the Fakes?" The interrogator was all business again and leaning in threateningly close the moustachioed gang leaders face and with Geoffs hands tied uncomfortably-seriously how the fuck does Gav let himself be kidnapped all the time and he gets this type of treatment doesn't the kid have standards- behind his back could only spit in the Interrogator's face.

The Interrogator recoiled, a hand going up to wipe his face the other to punch Geoff square in the jaw. Then storming out of the room muttering something about how a few hours of isolation should teach him some respect.

The isolation was welcomed by Geoff as it slowed him to think, it's not often he was kidnaped, no that was more Gavin's forte, but when he did his boys aren't far behind. But what worried him now was the person that did kidnap him, this was obviously some rival crew, most likely newbies looking to make some room for themselves with the credit for taking down the Fakes. But really these newbies stood no chance, Geoff had half the crews in the city under his influence and The Golden Boy had everyone else wrapped around his finger, if Geoff went down the Fakes weren't going with him, yea they would mourn but plans had already been made in the event of a worst case scenario.

Geoff smiled though as the foundation of the building shook with a nearby explosion. That worse case scenario wasn't happening today. His boys had made quick work of tracking him down, it was most likely a record.

The sound of gunshots was getting closer and soon enough Geoff was being led out of the rival gangs compound by Mogar and the Vagabond into a waiting chopper, the Golden Boy smiling in the copilot seat, the Mother in the pilot seat and the Monster Truck hanging off the side with a minigun.   
Geoff was beaming as his crew took off, smiling, laughing, and joking about how they tracked Geoff down in exaggerated ways to play up the humor,yea he would move sea and sky for his crew's safety, but they would do the same for him. The loyalty ran deep in their blood.


	5. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really started in one place and ended in another that I did not intend it to end, but I'm glad it ended the way it did. and yes I am Mavin trash but I'll try to keep it out of this as much as possible but I Make no solid promises.

"Hey, hey, calm down, they can't hurt you anymore." Jack soothed, always the mother. Geoff couldn't help but think as he watched the two through bleary-just startled awake eyes.

It was Gavin that was being comforted by Jack. The Golden Boy had come into the "parents" room almost sheepishly, on the brink of tears and near full out hyperventilating. Gavin really only intended to wake Jack up but apparently, his distress had woken Geoff up too.

"Yea, Buddy. No one can hurt you here." The gang leader added as an afterthought to Jacks comforting words. But still, he was worried. Gavin's nightmares had gotten worse since he was last kidnaped, going from a before a particularly stressful heist occurrence to an almost nightly one.

So far all the crew could collectively pull out of the Golden Boy was that his nightmares had something to do with his old life, and considering how much Gav avoided the topic of his life before the Fakes it was hard to get much info on it.

Ya see, Gavin's last kidnapping had not gone as planned, i.e it wasn't planned and frankly scared the shit out of everyone. The Fakes spent four weeks looking for their Golden Boy, when they did find him Gavin was bruised, dehydrated and starved. No one really blamed him for having worse than usual nightmares.

But that's not what really worried Geoff, no what worried him was that they had gotten Gav back a week ago and the nightmares only seemed to be getting worse. One shared glance at Jack told him she thought the same.

"Hey, why don't we get you some hot chocolate, that might help." Geoff suggested softly, thanking God above that Gav nodded. So the three moved out of the master bedroom, quietly making their way to the living room where Gavin curled up on the couch, Geoff followed Jack into the kitchen.

"What are we going to do with him? He's still too skinny." Geoff asked leaning against the counter while Jack started on the hot chocolate.

Shaking her head and watching the water boil, "I don't know, but these nightmares he keeps having scare me the most, he's used to little hours of sleep but since they started he's he's been getting even less than usual."

Geoff nodded, he knew the concerns Jack had were real, with Gav's lack of sleep meant that he was unobservant, and an unobserved front man was a dead front man.

As Geoff watched Gavin from the kitchen pondering ways to help their Golden Boy an odd thing happened (later Geoff would consider it a miracle). Michael 'rage quit' Jones, resident demolition expert and explosive anger guy, trudged out of the dark hallway into the living room, half awake, ginger curls a mess more than usual, in boxers and a wife beater with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders trudged over to the couch and sat next to Gavin, pulling the Brit to his side and wrapping him in the blanket. Geoff could just hear the muttered "What are you doing awake?" From Gavin and the quiet "My Boi senses were tingling, I wanted to make sure you were alright." From Michael. Geoff watched in amazement as the two lads just chatted in hushed whispers. When the hot chocolate was ready Jack brought the two lads mugs and then left for bed again, she had shit to do in the morning after all but Geoff lingered until a look that Michael gave him told Geoff that the ginger could take care of Gavin for the night.

The next morning found the two lads asleep on the couch curled up into each other, both with soft smiles on their faces. From there on out whenever The Golden Boy needed a little comfort or reassurance late at night he would always be found in Michael's room and in return whenever Michael needed to rant or just forget about the stress he would disappear with Gavin for a few hours and always return smelling of gasoline and a news story following them but always with huge grin plastered across the two lads faces.

Geoff and Jack couldn't be any more proud with how Team Nice Dynamite cared for each other, yeah they were definitely parents.


	6. Fire

“I, for one, say that fire solves a lot of problems. Most problems, in fact.” Michael mused into the earpiece as he went about wiring the bomb.  
“Well it's not exactly the best way to solve a problem but I suppose if it works for you…” He could hear his boi sigh on the other end, as gunshots sounded off just around the corner and Gavin gave a patented squawk of surprise.  
“How about we talk about our less than healthy coping mechanisms until after we get out of the line of fire?” The firebrand of the Fakes eyebrows furrowed as he twisted the last wire, making the bomb live and ready to detonate. The reinforcements had arrived quicker than expected and it was just him and Gavin out here dealing with the rival crew, Team Nice Dynamite was used as an example when the Golden Boy and his guard dog were deployed all hell broke lose. “Gav, the buildings live, swing around back and let's get the hell out of here before shit gets too messy.” he was already sprinting for the back exit, taking down anyone who was in the way  
Gavin’s breathing was ragged on the other end, but Michael assumed it was from the suddenness of the other gangs reinforcements coming in catching him off guard. “Right, coming ‘round with the bike now.”  
Michael burst through the back door of the complex right into a hail of gunfire. There was really no time to think, so thank god for instincts and random concrete barriers that could be used as cover. But Michael had been running low on ammo beforehand, and there were just too many guys, and still no fucking annoying ass purple motorcycle with an even more annoying- but totally necessary- brit whipping around the corner, fucking sue him of Michael wasn't a little bit worried on so many different levels because this was a big operation, and Gavin still wasn't here yet, Michael was being surrounded and despite it all he really didn't want to die at fucking twenty-five and holy fuck, “Gavin were the fuck are you boi?!” He basically yelled to be heard above the gunfire and bullets.  
“Sorry Micool, had to push my way through more guys, hold out just a bit longer I promise.”  
And like the fucking saving graces the familiar whine of Gavin's sporty little bike came echoing down the alleyway, followed not a second later by the plum purple abomination itself wiping around the corner and easily speeding towards the concrete barrier where Michael was hidden.  
Jumping up from behind cover the firebrand just managed to jump onto the bike, a near miracle in and of itself considering Gavin hardly slowed down. Like lightning, they were on the main streets of Los Santos the compound going up. They spent the high-speed chase in relative silence, other than the sound of gunfire, explosions, and the occasional call of where an enemy was and where not to go. But other than that it was mostly unspoken communication. The two of them knew each other to the point where they could work off each other without saying a word. Team Nice Dynamite had that advantage, they had to. Michael and Gavin where the two Geoff sent out when he wanted a message of ‘Don’t fuck with the Fakes’ sent out and sometimes the two had no choice but to do things non-verbally.  
The smoggy sky was alight with orange, punctuated with black smoke when Gavin pulled them into a relatively safe secluded, out of sight out of mind alleyway to wait for the activity around them to die down a bit so they could go home without being followed. Both boys got off the bike, shaky limbs barely holding them up as the familiar adrenaline began to fade as fast as the sunlight. Michael sank down the dingy alley wall to the ground, out of breath, but delighted to be alive. Next to him Gavin sank much, in the same way, an arm draped across his middle.  
A breathy laugh escaped Michael, it was shaky, breathless and most likely an easy way to let the remaining adrenalin out but goddamn did it feel good because despite how often it happened it felt good to still be alive after a close call like that. Whatever joy at being alive went up in smoke the moment Michael turned to share his enthusiasm with his best friend.  
Gavin was pale, he wasn't supposed to be pale, he was supposed to be bright like the gold he loved so much. Gavin was pale and he wasn't smiling, instead scowling down at the ground like he could glare it down and make it repent for everything that had gone wrong like the ground was at fault for the wet sticky dark splotch on his expensive blue shirt, and the maroon seeping through his fingers dying his hand.  
Michael's eyes went wide, his face paling almost as much as Gavins. For a scary moment, all the firebrand could do was stare, mind blank with shock, and mouth slightly agape. But then adrenaline he had thought died down flared up again, along with a fiery anger that he had to push down for now because his boi was hurt and he couldn't be angry right now because his boi was hurt and he had to help him. Somehow Michel had switched to autopilot, finally moving to press down on Gavin's side, sticky blood stained both of their hands now, and Gavin sucked in a gasp of air from the pain, pain that he shouldn't be feeling because he shouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place.  
Michael was muttering words he wouldn't remember to Gavin because everything was such a blur of shock and self-blame because this _shouldn't have happened_ , it had been so fucking long since something like this had happened. Michael did remember though - and could piece together - how the rest of the crew had found them, how Geoff and Ryan had to basically pry him off Gavin when they got back to the penthouse so Gavin could be fixed up, how he left in a fit of rage, fire burning in him, demanding revenge, demanding that someone had to pay for hurting _his_ Golden Boy.  
The next thing Michael clearly remembered was Gavin scoffing at how Michael smelled of gasoline and burnt souls with a smile rightfully on his face and red blotched bandages wrongfully around his stomach.  
Fire was Michael's coping mechanism, it's solved problems, most of them in his opinion. He would gladly burn the city to the ground if it meant Gavin was safe, though he would never be caught dead saying aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know I de-aged them a bit, but I have a reason for it I swear! I just haven't figured it out yet. just bear with me while I figure out what i wanna do and which pairings or not I wanna go with, I'm stuck between OT6 and mavinseg. Honestly, I'm gonna dabble in both and see with one I like better, but keep in mind if you want to see something jus ask but I am keeping away from smutt, at least in this work, if i get enough asks I might start another one where it is all smutt, but until then just keep reading.


	7. Kindness

“I don’t deserve your kindness.” The mad Mercenary with the black skull mask, The Vagabond, said to the not so frightened (Already this was an anomaly) ginger girl that had a) saved his life and b) had taken him home to patch up his wounds and now was giving him a cup of hot cocoa (Which he took, he may be a killer but he most certainly was not rude)  
The ginger girl chuckled and sat on the dingy,uncomfortable couch next to the Vagabond, ”I’m not exactly one to leave a man fighting for his life with wounds like yours.” she took a sip of her cocoa, “So what do I call you? The Vagabond seems a bit professional to use in a casual conversation with you.”  
The Vagabond eyed her up, baby blue assessing her threat level through the mask, “Your name first. I should be able to thank my generous caretaker by name.”  
“Jacklin Pattillo, Jack for short, though,” Jack smiled, something in her eyes shifted, the kindness stayed but something behind it lacked. The Vagabond could pick up on it easily,giving your full name to someone like him was a risk, a big one that usually signified a want at a mutual trust.  
“Ryan.” The Vagabond offered, it was his middle name sure, but until he could get a better read on the kind woman in front of him it was all he was going to give. Names were a dangerous thing in his line of work.   
Thankfully Jack seemed to understand that and with a nod she didn't pry, but instead changed the subject, “You should take a break for a few weeks with your wounds.” she pointed at splotchy red gauze and bandages wrapped around Ryan's stomach that she had wrapped there was another similar one wrapped around his right leg.  
Ryan shook his head, making to stand just to prove a point that he didn’t need to stay. “No, that's okay I can leave I don’t want to - Gah!” he fell back to the couch with a pained yell, he couldn't put much pressure on his leg without it hurting, well, of course, he had been shot through.  
Jack just gave him the ‘I told you so,’ look when Ryan gave her a sheepish glance. “You’re staying here for a little bit, Geoff will just have to get over it.” She said getting up from the couch and taking his now cold cocoa back to the kitchen.  
Although Ryan didn't really know it yet, he just got a feeling, that this random act of kindness would set him down a path he would both enjoy and regret with all his will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short yea I know, but I got distracted half way through and then came back to it realizing I had to finish it so this is what you get, also I have no idea how to write for the Vagabond but I promise I will get better


	8. Begginings

“I want people to tremble when they see me.” Geoff Ramsey, the drunk with the handlebar mustache suddenly said, interrupting the silence of the below sub-par apartment and subsequently startling his best friend/roommate Jack.  
“And I want some coffee sweetheart, and let me tell you, only one of these wishes is gonna be coming true.” The ginger recovered quickly, waiting for the crappy coffee maker to finish making her cup.  
Geoff just rolled his eyes, twisting on the couch, that he had - like many other pieces of furniture in the apartment - carried over from his parents place back in Alabama, to fix Jack with a serious glare. “I’m serious you know, we could take this city by storm, became head of a criminal empire and be untouchable.”  
Jack hummed walking over to the couch with a fresh cup of coffee in her hand, taking a sip through a thoughtful smile, entertaining Geoff’s most likely hungover idea. “Burnie wouldn't let you overtake the Roosters, you’re lucky he let you out, I don’t think he would be too happy to find you jumping back in only to be trying to overtake him.” she pointed out easily.   
It was true, Geoff's past with the head gang of the west coast Rooster Teeth would make any bid for Los Santos a dangerous one that's for sure. But Geoff just shrugged, “Burnie can't hold on to power for much longer, the Roosters are falling apart, yea no one can see it now but they are.”  
Jack raised an eyebrow at this, taking another sip of the hot coffee. “Oh? And you know this how?”  
“I may not be in the roosters anymore but I can still tell what's happening, remember burnie’s still my friend, I can tell what's going on with him ever if I’m not involved. And trust me, he’s losing control.”.Geoff was looking at the tv now, the news report of the latest Los Santos gang violence was being reported.  
Jack just sighed, “Tell you what,” she started to get Geoff attention, “If you stay sober for twenty-four hours then bring this idea up again, I’ll seriously consider it. Until then I’m just going to consider this an idea spawned from a hangover mind. Deal?” She asked holding out a hand for him to shake.  
Geoff took her hand and shook it without much hesitation “Deal,” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall behind Jack, “Now go before you’re late for work.”  
Whipping around to look at the clock Jack swore and scrambled for her shoes and downing her coffee, calling out a hurried “Have a nice day Jackass!” to Geoff before slamming the front door in her hurry to leave.  
The next two days saw a sudden change in Geoff. Jack noted that the man seemed more attentive, more active and less drunk, and it almost worried her, it would have if she didn't remember the deal she had made with him about his idea and how he needed to stay sober for her to actually consider it.  
The end of the second day saw it all pay off when Geoff asked over dinner as blunt as can be and almost eager “Do you want to start a gang with me?”  
Jack stared at him for a long moment, tired from the long hours at the hospital interning as a nurse, she sighed and made a dramatic showing of exasperation by slowly dragging her hand down her face. “Where do we start?” she asked.  
Geoff’s face broke into a grin, and from under a table, he produced two pistols. “We start with this and a convenience store on the other side of town.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea, yea I know its all out of order but I'm posting these as drafts once I Finish writing them so don't judge, I might go back and fix it all later, like after I finish writing stuff for this later, but who knows when that will be so for now we all have to deal with it. anyway hope you all enjoy my writing and sorry for any and all spelling/grammar issues, if you inform me of them I will do my beast to go back and fix them just bung me down with a complaint in the comments and I'll get to it sooner or later, also feel free to ask for something you wanna see in here, I know I haven't done anything with Ryan but I promise something is coming! Anyway thanks so much for reading and I hope you have a great Day/Night/ whatever time of day you're in right now


	9. Forgiving

“I’m so sorry.” Ray said, hands out in front of him, eyes wide.he was clearly terrified, he didn't want to be,knew he shouldn't, but still he was. He really hadn't expected anyone to find him, especially not Him, of all people why did it have to be him.

Cold blue eyes just froze over, glaring icy daggers at the scared Puerto Rican “Don’t you dare say that word like it changes anything you’ve done.” Ryan- no this wasn't the dorky, friendly slightly psychotic suburban dad, this was The Vagabond. The one that was holding the gun, the one with the black skull mask, strictly business- snarled. “You don’t even know what you did do you?” he asked and all Ray could do was shake his head, he hadn't kept tabs on the Fakes since he left, other than what he heard on the news, and he was four states over so what he heard wasn't much.

“Your little disappearing act almost tore us apart. Geoff was knock-out drunk for three weeks, Gavin's nearly worked himself to death, quite literally he fucking collapsed more than a few times from exhaustion, Michael been in and out of a rage, going out to blow shit up whenever he feels like it, coming back to help Jack, bless her heart, she's been the one trying to pick up the pieces, she’s trying to keep Geoff out of the liquor, trying to get Gavin to indulge in basic human functions, trying to calm Michael down before he storms out to blow something up.” the Vagabond paused letting the news of Ray's former family and the self-destruction he started sink in.

Ray’s heart was heavy, he really didn't think his leaving would send them into a downward spiral like that, but it had. He couldn't even look at Ryan, instead finding interest in the tacky eighties shag carpet of the dingy motel he was holed up in currently. “Have any of them threatened to leave?” Ray’s voice was quiet, flat, masking whatever turmoil he had from the Mad Mercenary  
Ryan paused, he honestly didn't know what was going on with the crew in the past two weeks, he had been hunting the little traitor that was standing in front of him down. “I don’t know, none of us really have anywhere to go.”

The silence between them as heavy, tense. Neither of them wanted the other in their presence but neither of them really wanted the other to walk away. They stood in a pregnant moment where anything could happen. Until Ryan turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Ray asked kind of scared at what the Vagabond was going to do.

Ryan paused at the door, turning his head slightly so ray could hear him better. “I’m going home, I don’t abandon my family.” That simple statement made ray flitch, “Don’t ever bother coming back, you won't be forgiven.” then, like a shadow in the night, Ryan left, disappearing back to his place in the world, leaving the younger with a heavy heart, a torn soul and nowhere to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally did something with Ryan and Ray! get that squared away, hoped you liked it and comment below if you wanna see some fluff with a specific ship or want a scenario, or if you just enjoyed it in general, all comments will be looked at, so thanks.


	10. Weight

 “HOLY SHIT THIS IS HEAVY. ”Jeremy gasped as he hauled the duffle bag of gold over his shoulder, the flashing emergency lights of the bank and distant sound of gunfire off on the front and the basic chaoticness of the heist was almost a relief from the weeks spent in hiding as the FIB cleared out and the Fakes weighted for a good opportunity to show the nation that they wouldn't back down, just strategically retreat.  
The com crackled to life, and over the static, gunfire and shouts of the others, Jeramy could hear Gavin tsk, “You doughnut! You just swung a bag full of 999.9 Karat gold, literally pure gold! Of course, it's going to be heavy,at best each brick alone weighs at least thirty-five pounds!” Jeramy could hear him rolling his eyes like this was common knowledge.  
The rest of the crew groaned from where they were. “Gav, save the rich nerd talk for later and get Lil’J out of there so we can all go.” Geoff ordered as more shots came from the front. Gavin groaned, he hadn't exactly been happy when he was put on hacking duty, far away from the action from the very beginning. He had been watching the newsfeeds and security cameras for most of the time spent hiding and he had really wanted to get out and wreak some havoc.  
Michael cut off the Golden boys complaints before they started “The sooner you get Jeremy out the sooner the gold gets back to us and the sooner Team Nice Dynamite can get out on the city and remind them who’s in charge.” The ginger promised getting the brit to groan then grumble an agreement and had him rattling off directions for the safest way out of the building through the ring of cops, and to Jack who was the designated getaway driver who, as soon as Jeremy was in the car, called the all clear and peeled out of the alleyway she was parked in.  
What ensued was a high-speed chase down the highway. Lives were lost of course, cars blew up (the cops, the civilians and the fakes) and a tank was called in at some point, but eventually they got away, not without more than a few scrapes and bruises but the got away.only to face a more prevalent evil… Gavin's pout. Seriously no grown man should be able to pull off a pout and the puppy dog eyes and be able to make five other grown men guilty because of them, that's some demon shit right there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really no good a humor but I'm trying okay, I'm trying to get better, even I need a break from the drama that I write. I'm sorry for the crappy humor but believe me, I'm dealing with the cringyness as much as you are.


	11. Colors

“Go ahead. Tell me. Tell me what you really think of me.” The Golden Boy glanced to his side at the explosives expert. The warm, smoggy breeze from the city tussling both of their hair, the vibrant sunset coloring them in vibrant golds and reds. Michael wouldn't even look at home, instead starting out into the distance over the city from their vantage point on the top of the maze bank, legs dangling from the side of the building, being all broody.  
Gavin sighed, biting his bottom lip, golden sunglasses forgotten by the cooling body behind the two boys, sticky blood starting to dry on his hands and clothes, and probably bits were in his hair, but he really didn't care he was more worried about Michael and how he had seen him be Midas, the brutal -gets-shit-done-no -nonsense killer. In his defense they had been in a tough spot and the Golden boy type interrogation method was not working, one thing led to another and next thing they knew Michael and he had kidnaped the target, and was interrogating (read torturing) him on top of the maze bank.  
“What even was that Gavin? That wasn't you was it?” Michaels soft confused tone was just loud enough for Gavin to hear him over the wind. The gingers mind was moving at a hundred miles an hour. The brutality the shear almost animalistic force that Gavin had when torturing the guy was terrifying to say the least, downright pants shitting if he was being honest with himself, the clumsy, buffoon that could hardly hit the broad side of a building wasn't there, that Gavin had been swallowed by whoever- whatever that was. Whatever had possessed his Gavin was more brutal than the Vagabond  
Next to Michael Gavin sighed, then scrunched up his big nose as he tried to figure out how to word his explanation before deciding upon: “That was Midas.”  
“That doesn't exactly give much information, ya know.”  
Gavin nodded almost sadly. “I know. But I don’t know how to explain it.”  
“Then let's start with what he does.” Michael urged the Golden boy on, the sunset painting him in the gold he loved so much.  
“Madis is…. Like the Vagabond but with a bit more…. Cunning, I wanna say.” Gavin started, avoiding looking at Michael his green eyes attentive on the horizon. “He gets shit done, he the Golden Boy fully realized, all business no fuck up. He’s the one that comes out on missions when we’re all in trouble and have to fight our way out.”  
“Will he hurt us? He seems like a bit of a wild card - I mean more so than regular you.” Michael asked he didn't want to question if Gav actually had Multiple personalities, or even how many there are he just wanted to learn about Madis and hopefully get Gavin comfortable with talking about him.  
Gavin shook his head, “No, he shouldn't. Not unless something happens to the point where he feels like he needed to come out, and even then I think he would be hard pressed to take all five of you a once. But taking you all out separately, yea he can absolutely do that.”  
Michael sighed, “That's not exactly reassuring but understandable.”  
They sat in the silence for a while, the golden sunset fading into a dusty dusk, the wind around them growing colder. The two of them still had questions for the other, and now it was just a matter of one of them asking the first.  
“You seem to be awfully calm about-” Gavin justed to his head “-This. Most people are at least weirded out to find out there's more than one of me.”   
Michael shrugged, “I knew someone with MPD before I came to Los Santos, got a gist of the do’s and don’t’s. So how many others know?”  
“Geoff and Jack know, Ryan might have pieced it together, Jeremy has no idea.”  
“Why not tell us all?” he questioned eyes and tone soft.  
Gavin shrugged, his hands in his lap and thumbs twiddling, “I Donno. Always figured once I told you all that you would look at me and think i was a lost cause, throw me out of the crew,just see me differently. I don’t want that.”  
Michael nodded, that was understandable but a completely stupid worry. So stupid that he started to get angry. He gave it a moment to let that anger stew before saying, “You're stupid, idiotic, obnoxious, assholeish guy I, and probably the rest of the Crew know.” he looked at Gavin to see the betrayed look on Gavin's face, “But at the same time you're, smart- fuck borderline genius- a good shot, the best hacker I know, a great getaway driver when bikes are concerned and one of the best pilots in the crew. So what if you have a few other personalities? As far as i care as long as they don't try to kill us it's worth the bit of complications they might give us. The Fakes are a family Gav. and whether you think you're ‘worthy’ of being part of it or not the fact of the matter is that you are and nothing will change that I’m sure.”  
Gavin was shocked,for once is stupid front man mask was off and Michael could read the shock on his face, and to be honest Michael had to try hard not to be shocked at himself he wasn't exactly one for pep talks. But he was glad he did it when Gavin smiled up at him. “Thanks, Micco, didn't know you were one for pep talks.” he laughed, and in true Gavin fashion, it was infectious and soon Michael was laughing too.  
Michael, still chuckling got up from the edge of the building, offering a hand to Gavin, “C’mon boi, I’m starving. Let’s get some food then bevs.”  
Gavin took his hand and hauled himself to his feet, blood long dried.”Sounds good boi, dinners on me if you take bevs.”  
“Done.” together they walked off back to the chopper they had taken up here, leaving the body to rot in the cold blue faded to the light of the city, the gold colors of the sunset long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo... yeah. Gav had Multiple personality disorder... I don't exactly know how this will paly into the rest of the chapters, but I assure you it will its a thing also for future notice I am so, so sorry to any reader that have MPD for when I get something wrong and miss-represent it in some way, and ask that instead of yelling at me in the comments you contact me and politely point out my mistake and offer ways I can make my writing better. so to contact me either bing me a message here or on my Tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fireimpshadow


	12. Threats Part 1 - Ryan

You think he's finally dead now?" Mused Ryan, his quietly gruff voice breaking the midnight silence of the car.

Geoff was the only other one awake, he was driving the black SUV out of their burning city into the cold deserts where Gavin seemed certain no one could find them “I don’t know.” the leader of the Fake AH Crew answered honestly tired, old blue eyes older now in the yellow gleam of the streetlights. “We never did find out whether he was like us did we? Whether he lived through the ages like we do.”

Ryan shook his head, the famed mercenary was in the passenger seat, black skull mask off and dirty blond dyed black hair hanging messily from the remnants of his usual ponytail, shaken loose from the unusual chaos of the day.

The silence lapsed again, filling the space in the conversation with the quiet sleeping breaths of Jack from her spot in the seat behind Geoff her hands stained with blood, both from the enemy and from their makeshift family, a loose bandage wrapped with one handed delicacy around her upper arm, more blood stained her bright Hawaiian shirt and white shorts. The Lads were squished together in the backseat all hurt in some way and seeking comfort like the inseparable brothers they denied being. In the passing streetlights, you could see the bruises that marred Michael's face and the residue of a bloody nose and busted lip that had long since dried up, what was a most likely broken arm but what they all prayed was just a sprain, sat uncomfortably in a makeshift splint in his lap. Michaels other arm was thrown over Gavin's shoulders. The Golden Boy had been hurt the most out of the three it seemed at least physically - a bullet wound in his side from a sniper that tried to get him while he was on his bike, a broken nose and at least four broken fingers from an ally beating, and a broken leg from a forced jump out of a helicopter while they were fleeing the penthouse - left him bloodied and dependent on others. His fingers ensured that he couldn't hack for a few weeks, and his leg and bullet wound prevented him from running, he was basically dead weight, in the escape he had insisted for a while over the ear pieces for the rest of them to just leave without him his reason being that he had been captured before, he could survive, he would just slow them down anyway. Of course, everyone protested this loudly, the only thing they could do, they were all too far away to do anything else really. All of them except Jeremy. Lil’ J had gone quiet as the other protested and had gone to get Gavin's self-sacrificing ass while the rest of them could just protest the Golden Boys less than golden words. The third lads head now rested against the cold window of the FIB SUV he had stolen to get to Gavin his cowboy hat off, his arm loosely interlocked with Gavin's from when they were holding him down to reset his leg. His purple hacked flashed with blood stains in the yellow light of the streetlights. The newest ad had been silent as he picked the other Fakes up and drove them out of the danger zone, his jaw was set and heavy as they played musical chairs at the first safe house they came across with medical supplies.

“Did we bring this on ourselves?” Ryan asked again shattering the silence, “We drove him out-”

“We did not, he chose to leave, he let on his own terms, he felt that this life wasn't for him, he tried getting out. This is what trying gets people like him.” Geoff had cut Ryan off tone hard, knuckles white on the steering wheel and old tired eyes frozen over with the burning rage of a man whose family had been hurt.

Ryan gave him a curious glare, he didn't want to push the man farther but the matter had to be discussed, and now in the dead of night with an empty desert road and only two of the six awake seemed to be the best time. “But Ray couldn't just come after us, not alone. He certainly didn't seem alone.”

“Maybe he built a crew and wants to take familiar turf. Geoff snapped patients wearing thin already.

“What if he was hired?” The maskless Vagabond mused, “They went after Gavin pretty hard, he seems adamant on being left behind, and we hardly know anything about his life before he came to Los Santos. Maybe Ray got tangled up in some sort of mess with Gavin's past.”

Geoff's grip on the steering wheel tightened more, and his shoulders tensed up a little more, “Or Ray went after Gavin because he knows Gavs our biggest weak spot and that we would never leave behind one of you crew much less him.” he was scared, though. Ryan brought up good points if Ray had gotten roped into something with Gavin's past then five of the six of the where at a disadvantage. Gavin was the only one who knew what they were dealing with,the brits past was a vague mystery to them all.

Ryan shook his head. His mind was to tired to think clearly right now, the last of the adrenaline had worn off and now he just wanted to sleep for five years. “ Wake me or Jack up if you need to sleep before we reach the safe house.” Ryan watched for Geoff to nod before turning and leaning his head against the window, watching the sky brighten with stars as they got away from the smog of the city before eventually drifting to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna try a connecting story line, this may or may not be immortal fahc so I'm just giving you a heads-up if someone gets hurt and had an abnormally short healing time. wish me luck


	13. Threats part 2 - Ray

Ray Narvaez Jr. did not like being taken advantage of he liked it eve less when he was being blackmailed to do things by some shady company that wanted to get back at one of his friends and former crewmate. That's what lead him to storm into the military base and slam open the metal doors of his current employer yelling “I’m taking what I have left, my dignity and self-respect, and then I’m leaving. I’m going as far away as I possibly fucking can because you won't ever get me to do that bullshit again!” his outburst had less than desired effects.

Rays sudden entrance caused the two security guards on the other side of the door to grab both his arms, restraining him, leaving him to flail his legs and arms in a futile attempt to get out of the big beefy guys hold,leaving him to pathetically yell at the head honchos in charge of this operation to just stare at him, with smug smiles on their faces, not unlike those Ray remembers Gavin using when he was full-on frontman mode, smirks that told someone they knew something you didn’t that they were above you in every way, that they were better than you. Ray hated that smirk.

“Let him go.” the lady that had originally approached him for this job waved her hand and the guards that were holding Ray back let him go. He didn't dare make a move to punch the lady no matter he wanted to even he knew it was a horrible idea to push the head of the American branch of Britain's Secret intelligence service in a room full of American generals. Agent Erma Dorsey, waved Ray to sit at the planning table while excusing the other generals all but one, Fernando Salinas, Erma's American partner.

Ray sat on the opposite side of the long oval table from the two agents. Erma tucked a loose strand of brown hair that had fallen out of her neat bull behind her ear her green eyes as hard as emeralds as she stared down ray from across the table. “What seems to be the problem Mr. Narvaez.” pompous British accent annoying him disproportionately considering he had lived with another brit for more than a few years.

Ray's eyes were equally hard, his arms were folded in front of his chest, he sunk low in the comfortable chair but he was ready to fight or flight at any given moment, “I want out of the deal.”

Fernando, ever the Los Santos native was appalled, “I thought you said you didn't care what happened to the city.”

“Yea the city I don't care about, the people that run it are a different story!” he rounded on the mastermind of the whole scheme, Erma still had the stupid ass higher than thou smirk, and twinkle in her green eyes, “I Never said I would take down the Fake Ah Crew, only that I would take out a few people.”

“You misunderstand our intentions Mr.Narvaez,” Erma took a breath, “MI6 doesn't want to take down the Fake AH Crew, the American Government does, we simply want a piece of the puzzle.”

Ray’s eyes widened ever so slightly, he knew what Erma wanted, “I’m not handing Gavin over to you.” his sat up straight in the chair now, resolve hard, but he was one man and these two agents had two very powerful nations at their back.

Erma just smiled, “You won't have to, you just needed to run them out of the city and into a corner, there already running, now we need to corner them. After that the FIB storms there safe house, MI6 takes Gavin Free back to England and they all get tried in federal court to go there own ways there ways being to the death sentence or in Mr. Free’s case life in jail. You can either be part of them by leaving now or you can help us and be either cleared of all accusations or at least serve a severely lessened jail time by helping us. The call is yours Mr. Narvaez” She left the offer hanging in the air to twist Ras gut in the choice. Walk out and attempt to help his former crew and face the death penalty were really only he would die and the others would just keep respawning for the government to either kill over and over again in gruesome experiments while making Gavin suffer in a jail for all eternity, or keep helping this British skank in an attempt to keep himself alive. Ray sighed, sitting to lean against the table. “So, what can I do to help?”

The agents face lit up in expectant smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of the Threats series, I feel good about this honestly I'm trying to get the rest of it queued up and ready to go so I have it to where I can just publish it without worry, and f it gets really big and long I might just flesh it out and turn It into its own story, with a different beginning but it will have the parts I write here in it, idk only time will tell


	14. Threats Part 3 - Michael

“I don’t think I wanna be alone tonight.” Came Gavin’s scared trailed off reply when Michael asked what the beaten Golden Boy was doing leaning against his door frame at two in the morning.  
Michael wanted to be mad, he honestly did. Being woken up at two in the morning by Gavin would usually earn the brit a few angry words or sometimes even a fist to the face, but there were a few times where a two am talk was necessary, and tonight was one of them.  
Out of bed in seconds, Michael padded over on creaking floorboards to his friend's side, wrapping an arm around the brits shoulder to help him hobble to the couch in the living room down the hall, Gavin's broken leg really started to get annoying when they didn't have access to crutches way out here in the middle of god fuck nowhere.  
The safe house was old, older than any of them cared to know, but is was far from the city, deep into Blaine County pushed along the shore on a small peninsula sticking out onto the Alamo Sea, rumors where bigfoot lived way out in the forests around here but the Crew had long since denounced those rumors as bullshit. The old place was big enough for each of them to have their own room and was an absolute last resort as to a pace to hide, only Geoff and Gavin knew about it.  
“Tea?” offered Michael, as he propped Gavin's leg upon the rickety old coffee table they had packed up a few days ago to try to make the place feel more homely. The disgruntled Golden Bo nodded as he tried to find a comfortable position on the lumpy old couch with the hideous floral pattern and numerous stains that wouldn't come out that had followed Geoff from his mother's house. The Kitchen was small, really it was nothing more than a stove, fridge, sink, a few counters with drawers, two beaten up cabinets and a pantry that was a converted closet. The small dining table that somehow fit all six of them stood in the transition of tile to carpet between the living room and kitchen, but still it worked (most of the time) so one one really complained. Sidestepping the dining table into the just good enough kitchen Michael set to work making his friends tea.  
The kettle on the stove and the water heating up Michael leaned against one of the few counters in the dark kitchen, neither of them had bothered to put on a light, it was easier that way less energy wasted, less opportunity to get into the others head and close yourself off. It had been two weeks since the six of them had been basically run out of the city. Two weeks of Gavin being more jumpy than usual, of not sleeping, or shutting himself away. It was hard for any of the crew to witness, but Michael liked to think that he was closer to Gavin than the others, that only he could see the angry glares at nothingness that Gavin slipped into when he thought no one was looking, how Gavins alter ego, Midas slipped into play whenever there were less than three people in the room, how the cold ruthless killer took over his friend's warm green eyes. Even thinking about it made Michael shiver. But the kettle was whistling, and expertly even in the dim moonlight that streamed through the window in sparse beams that tumbled down through the canopy of leaves and a sprained wrist Michael poured the scalding water into a mug, retrieved the teabag, and with practiced ease put in the right amount of sugar and cream, before bringing a mug for Gavin, and other in his other hand for himself.  
They didn't talk for a long time. Both friends sipping their tea, pressed against one another for warmth, careful of the others injuries as they listened to the predawn sounds, the crickets outside and the rustling of leaves, the creak of the house as it settled with the wind,snores of the other three men from their bedrooms, the chime of the old the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway as it reached three in the morning.  
“They were after me you know,” Gavin muttered softly, trying not to disturb the peaceful noises of the house.  
Michael gave a small shake of his head,his auburn curls bounced away, “They could have been after anyone, you just so happened to be there.”  
Gavin huffed, “I recognized the outfits, those weren't just regular thugs on the street Micool. they were undercover SIS agents. They found me they finally found me, and now they're going to track us down and take you all away too.” He was choking up, already on the verge of tears. Michael handicapped with one good arm hugged his boi as best he could, shushing him. Reassuring him that they this SIS wouldn't find him here.  
“Micool, Micool…” Gavin cooed cutting the explosives exercise reassurances off, “ I killed the Prime Minister and the head of SIS as a distraction.my partner was supposed to snag the Jewels, he was caught, I got out.”  
Michael froze, this was why Gavin was in Los Santos. He had fled a pursuing nation. Michael remembers hearing about the heist gone wrong over the news then years ago, how the authorities had captured one-half of Britain's infamous SMG gang but that that the other half was still out there, and that they had killed the Prime Minister and the head of anther important government agency. He remembered hearing about the news for a few months as the aftermath took it's course, how Britain had to hold an emergency election and how security was tightened up in the airports for the Jewels and basically the whole country. At the time Michael was just starting out,a part-time demolitions expert in New York turned pickpocket struggling to survive. He remembers being amazed at a crime, even if it failed, of that size even going as right as it did.  
Shock drove Michael to speak, just to make sure he was getting this right. “You’re the other half of the SMG, the one that got away?” his voice was barely above a whisper from disbelief.  
Gavin had the audacity to scoff, “ Yea, I was the coward who ran away and let his mate behind in prison, came here to try to blend in with the crowd, try to get a fresh start, ended up back in the ring of crime when I met Jack. But now SIS found me, FIB is probably with them and they are probably going to find us and at the very least lock you all away for life and drag me back to England.”  
Michael couldn't help but to break down laughing, loud and obnoxious laughing that hurt his stomach and brought tears to his eyes . “Micool, shut up.you’ll wake the others.” Gavin wined trying to cover Michaels mouth with his hand, his two broken fingers proving more hindrance than helpfulness. Michael somehow managed to control his laughs to occasional chuckles, “I-I’m sorry dude, but I remember hearing about that, what? Ten years ago? I was fucking nineteen that means a fucking eighteen year old managed to kill the prime minister of England the head of MI6 and almost steal the crown Jewels, I’m sorry but that-” he cut himself off with another fit of laughing before finally sobering up and turning the conversation somber again. “But seriously Gav, have some faith in us, we aren't going down that easily,” Gavin was about to say something but Michael plowed on, “Even if they have Ray on their side, we’re going to keep you safe, and hell maybe even get your buddy out of prison. Now tomorrow you're going to tell the rest of them about why the British government is after you, and then as we all heal we’re going to figure something out, okay?” Gavin nodded, in the predawn light his green eyes shimmered a pale white, almost like they were the eyes of a dead man. The silence filled the space between them again and it was just as comfortable as before.  
When Ryan woke up at six that morning he was almost surprised to find Michael and Gavin curled into each other on the couch with half-empty mugs of cold lavender tea on the coffee table dangerously close to being kicked off by Gavin outstretched broken leg. When he took into consideration all that had happened in the past two weeks the deadly Vagabond couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. Instead, he settled for taking the mugs of half-finished tea off the table and throwing a blanket over the sleeping Team Nice Dynamite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a six part series, I have it all planned out, once it's finished if you guys want it as a separate work then leave a comment and I will do that immediately, thanks for reading and please leave a comment about what you liked what you didn't like and how I could make it better.


	15. Threats Part 4 - Geoff

“This is so fucking stupid,” Geoff muttered to himself as he drove along, “So, so fucking stupid.”  
Jack was in the passenger seat of the supercar, in a new even more obnoxious Hawaiian shirt than the one that was ruined the day they were run out of the city, and no middle-class parent of three could match the long exasperated sigh that Jack gave, “Geoff, we’ve talked about this for months, this is the best plan we could come up with. Hell, we should be thankful Michael didn't put up more of a fight.”  
“Yea well Michael’s not the one in the majority of harm's way,” Geoff grumbled  
The earpieces that everyone wore crackled to life. “Guys I don't think now's the best time to be discussing this. You know? Considering we’re already doing it?” Jeremy asked over the com, the whir of Ryan's supercar in the background.  
“Don’t worry Lil’ J, we’re dropping the subject now,” Jack shot Geoff a warning glare, to which he just rolled his eyes, “How's your operation coming along?”  
Ryan answered Jacks question this time. “We’re almost at the military base now, should've jumping in a jet soon.”  
Another crackle of static over the earpiece and Michael's voice came in through the static, “Pegasus dropped off my tank, I'm dropping Gav off at his bike then heading to it.”  
“Be careful everyone, and remember to pull out if things get too hectic pull out, I don't care if we respawn or not if one of you die the rest of us aren't waiting” Geoff warned to a chorus of ‘yes boss’es  
The entire plan was fairly simple, cause chaos, get Gavin arrested and then follow him via a GPS chip he embedded in his neck, simple really. Geoff and Jack were on brigade duty, using the tanks of trucks to bat cars out of the way, Ryan and Jeremy would be flying through the sky and blowing shit up in jets, Michael would be downtown in a tank causing as much property damage as possible and Gavin was on his bike, weaving in and out of the destruction, causing a bit with the sticky bombs and grenades he was allotted but really his target was the MI6 agent that was bound to show up.  
Really it was a simplistic plan, but of course shit had to go wrong, this was the Fake AH Crew we are talking about. The first thing that went wrong was that Ryan and Jeremy got cornered in the military base for most of the mission. The second thing that went wrong was fucking Pegasus and their fucking vehicles being moved, the only thing that really worked was Gavin and Michael's part of the plan, and arguably their part of the plan was the most important to pull off.  
The meeting point was the top of the maze bank, all four of them, Geoff, Jack, Ryan, and Jeremy were there on time Michael was a little late, Gavin was nowhere to be seen.  
“Does his program work?” Jeremy asked walking up to Michael as he climbed the steps to the helipad.  
Michael nodded, auburn curled bouncing as he tapped on his phone a few times then held it up to show a map with two dots, one blue for Gavin the other green for where Michael stood.  
“He's moving, the choppers loaded. Let's go.” Geoff ordered squinting at the map for a moment before turning away and climbing into the cockpit of the choppers oath Jack , leaving Jeremy, Michael and Ryan to bunk together in the back. Once everyone was in they took off following their Golden Boy east.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, yea I know, but it's mostly filler, i promise the next one will be much longer


	16. Threats Part 5 - Gavin

Getting captured was not fun, or easy. In fact, if Gavin had to describe how taxing it is, he would say that getting captured was one of the more mentally taxing things in his life. You Didn't know what information your captures were looking for so you didn't know how much you could say, and then you had the other hand of not knowing how far you could push your captures before they started hurting you. But as Gavin studied the seemingly calm and collected Agent Erma he slowly started to place the boundaries of how far he could push her, of course, he couldn't do much right now, with his hands cuffed behind his back at an uncomfortable angle for his shoulders and his mouth gagged and all, but he could still listen to her talk into a Bluetooth earpiece in the front seat of the government-issued black FIB SUV.

“Fernando, I've got my target and I am in route to the airport to extraction, I can only wish you luck with tracking down the rest of the Fakes from here on out,” she paused letting her partner on the other end speak, giving Gavin's racing mind to assess the little hints in her speech, her accent dripped of the Liverpool flair, and her mostly formal speech patterns, nicely pressed pantsuit and neatly done up brown hair hinted that she was still somewhat fresh from the academy, he was most likely her first big case, “Do what you want with Narvaez, pay him off and keep the deal or keep him around and try to get more information out of him, either way I'm taking Free back to London tonight, now I've got to go I’m nearing the airport.” she pressed the button on the Bluetooth ending the call, then she focused her hard green eyes intensely glaring back at Gavin in the rearview mirror, at the very least he was able to glare back. “I’m surprised you aren't struggling to get out back there. What, ten years with a crew in America and suddenly you're not the escape artist you were when you flead England?” she smirked knowing full well that he couldn't answer her, “You’re certainly a lot less impressive than I thought you would be. What do they call you here? The Golden Boy? You seem more like fool's gold to me.” the agent mocked, Gavin had to really concentrate to keep the smirk from playing on his lips and the laugh from bubbling in his throat, the dull throbbing at the base of his head from the newly implanted GPS chip was almost a comfort.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence. It almost shocked Gavin to see the airport gates open to let them through, he had always jumped over them. The car pulled up next to a nice private plane, the Luxor was - what Gavin was now assuming was government issued- black, and not to kindly was the Golden boy shoved inside and handcuffed to his seat for the remainder of his long ride back to England.

The trial was longer than Gavin suspected it would take, even with his plea of guilty, the judges and jury had a hard time believing that he was the man, after his plea. Thinking he was paid off by the real other half of the SMG. The whole time Gavin seemed unconcerned, he knew eventually he would be nailed with a sentence, his trial was being broadcast on every major news channel,and his failed heist had basically been the heist of the century, there was no way he wouldn't be sentenced to life. And in all honestly that notion made his heart jump, yea sure he and the other fakes had been busted by the LSPD before, but they had always been careful about covering their tracks so that they wouldn't really have any solid evidence to be held accountable for. But this was different. This time, it wasn't the incompetent Los Santos judge with shaky evidence and a not guilty plea he was standing in front of, this was Britain's Grand Jury, with evidence against him, and his guilty plea. Gavin ‘Golden Boy ‘ Free felt very, very alone. For the most part, he was, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a rare but familiar face smugly smirking in the back row of chairs set out for observers to watch the trial take place. Every day Gavin saw that face looking down at him from the same spot every day, and every day Gavin would be flashed a smile and resilience from suddenly warm blue and green eyes of a Maskless Vagabond.

Every day until the last Gavin was greeted with that warm look from the merciless mercenary. On the last day, when the Judge's gavel rang with the final verdict of life in prison, Gavin was being escorted out of the courtroom and he shared a nod with Ryan, a knowing nod that promised so much in one simple gesture, and then it was gone. And Gavin was ready to start a temporary new life old grey walls and cold bars.

In Gavin's opinion prison life was not actually that bad, for the most part. It helped a lot that he was a whispered legend amongst the inmates for the crimes he and Dan committed, and it also helped that a good handful of loyal SMG dirty workers were behind bars too, and we're still loyal. Prison life was very good for Gavin Free, his instant status as someone not to mess with carried him far, his Golden Boy luck carried him farther considering he and Dan were in the same cell block. Unfortunately, that where his luck ended for it seemed Dan held a little bit of a grudge that left Gavin with a nasty black eye for a week and Dan in solitary confinement for that same time.

It took a good three and a half for Gavin to warm up to Dan enough to actually talk to him, it was a morning at breakfast, Gavin and Dan had shared a table in uneasy silence for the past two months eating in silence at every meal, Gavin had been mulling over what to say to break the ice with his, well what use to be his best friend but now he didn't know exactly where they stood, but for once the golden boy with the golden tongue that could talk his way out of almost any situation couldn't come up with a single word to say. It wasn't the speechless golden boy that broke the ice.

“You’re a right prick ya know?” Dan glanced up at Gavin from across the table. Gavin nodded, whatever scolding he was about to get from dan was well deserved, “and insane, and a moron, a low life, a cheat, and a lot of other things, but I don't think anyone is stupid enough to call you a coward, especially in the situation you were put into when the plan went to utter shit.” Dan finished, setting his spoon down, and glaring at Gavin with his arms folded across his barrel chest.

Gavin was little surprised that Dan didn’t really get all that mad and start yelling at him like Gavin expected he would, quietly,timidly he even asked: “So you’re not mad?”

Dan just rolled his brown eyes, “Of course I’m mad, right pissed off that you just ran and left me in the dust to rot here in this godforsaken jail for ten years,I would be even more mad if you had left me to die here, but I realized you had to do what you did. And I know that you wouldn't just slip up and let them catch you, so you must have a plan.” dan shrugged then, “Besides, ten years really burns out any grudges anyone has and to be perfectly honest you're more trustworthy than any of these blokes in here. So what's the plan B?”

Gavin stared at Dan blankly for a moment in disbelief that after ten years this was still his B, then a wicked grin split the Golden Boys face and he began to divulge his plan to Dan, altering it with Dan's intel of the prison from the last ten years. Both halves of the SMG together again and ready to wreak hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second to last instalment of the Treats mini series,if you guys want me to do more with this sort of stuff leave a comment saying so and I'll start thinking up more coherent story lines


	17. Threats Part 6 -Dan

Dan Gruchy knew that his best friend Gavin Free was insane, his plans were off the walls and really shouldn't work but somehow they always did in some roundabout way, and his escape plan was no different.

The first bit of insanity was the cake that arrived for Gavin from a Mr. J. Haywood when Gavin received his face lit up in the slightest amount of amusement mixed in with the false surprise he displayed. Really Dan would have missed the surprise if he hadn't known Gavin from childhood, it was obvious that his masks had multiplied and gowns in strength. Then when Gavin had snuck his way into their shared cell with the cake he revealed two silenced .45 pistols with an extra magazine of ammo and a copy of the master key card to the prison doors buried within the cake. Gavin had explained that his new crew, The Fake Ah Crew were on the outside waiting to burst them out, he had given the first signal, and they had delivered the cake, now it was up to them to escape.

Nearly a week after the cake had been delivered, when it was three cell blocks time to be in the yard for their weekly exercise Gavin and told Dan to be ready to hightail it at a specific signal. Five minutes later they had caused a prison-wide riot and where on top of one of the compounds five roofs waiting to be extracted a cargo bob that was inbound and would be there in what Gavin assured him would be no time

Now for the past week Dan had laid awake in his prison cot, musing over what his B’s new crew, the Fake AH Crew was like from the brief descriptions of each member Gavin had given him. He had expected five buff, brawny dudes that were riddled with scars and whose faces were fixed in a permanent grimace. When the cargo bob actually arrived he did not expect the smiling faces behind the guns to pull them in, he didn't expect the loud whoops and hollers as they flew away with military choppers after them, he didn't expect the ragtag group of a crew to turn the getaway into a game as they dodged bullets and missiles while flying over wakefield and out into the direction of the country. And Daniel Gruchy most certainly didn't expect it to work. But to his surprise it did and once they were farther out into the country the military choppers gave up and they were flying clear.

“Ireland right? That's where you wanted us to set up the getaway plan?” The Ginger woman asked from the pilot's seat, Gavin nodded, the wind from his perch on the side of the cargo bob behind a man in a leather jacket with a wolf embroidered on the back ripped whatever words he could have said out of his mouth and threw them to the countryside. They spent the rest of the ride in a tense silence, the five unfamiliar pole all tense and ready just in case more military showed up.

The rest of the flight went without incident and soon enough they landed at an abandoned airfield in Ireland, a golden Luxor was waiting for them at the end of the runway. Gavin gasped when they jumped out of the cargo bob and he saw the golden jet, Aww Micool, you don't have to bring your golden one any old one would have done” Gavin cooed a twinkle in his eyes as he took in the gleaming jet.

The crew all chuckled and the one with the leather embroidered jacket swung his arm over Gavin's shoulders, “What, do you really expect me to not fly my Boi over the Atlantic to freedom in anything less?”

The man with the tired blue eyes and a suit lightly punched Gavin in the arm, “Besides, the Golden Boy shouldn't have any other sort of transportation home after his release from jail.” That got the whole crew laughing as they all started walking to the golden jet. Leaving Dan, uncertain in their wake.

Gavin stopped, though, halfway to the plane and looked around before turning back to Dan. His B gave him a familiar smile that Dan knew meant that they had an adventure before them, and with a certain spring in his step, Dan caught up to the Fake AH crew and followed them onto the plane where they all systematically got wasted in post-escape celebration.

 

Dan was stuck in Los Santos for six months, most of that time was spent with Gavin and the both of them negotiating with the head of the RoosterTeeth crime empire, the Cockbights into starting up the SMG again and an international partnership between the two empires. Then it was a matter of getting into contact with old contacts and getting the word out that the SMG were back in business and in those six months Dan could get a good grasp of how the Fakes worked and how Gavin had them all wrapped around his finger.

First there was the Vagabond, the mad mercenary, to dan it seemed like he was the lowest tied around Gavin's finger, he was the one that could come and go as he pleased, do what he wanted but when Gavin asked him to do something, no matter what, the Vagabond would do it, he was Midas’s loyal butler.

Then there was Jack, the protective ginger with a fancy of loud Hawaiian shirts and a mom complex, she was Midas’s maid, always willing to lend a hand to any of her boys, but when it came to Gavin she was adamant about protecting him, making sure he was eating right, getting enough rest. Hell Dan could have sworn he heard Gavin and the other lads call her mom on more than one occasion, and they called Geoff Dad sometimes too.

The boss man himself was an interesting figure to have in Gavin's little inner circle, the head of power bent to everything the Golden Boy asked. If Gavin asked for a few extra grand to mod out a car or a bike or to even just spurge on something useless Geoff would willingly agree. Dan decided that Geoff was Midas's banker.

Then there where the loyal guard dogs, the ones closest to Gavin, the Lads.

First there was Jeremy, Lil’ J, he was the newest addition to the crew, the most wide-eyed and innocent, a guard dog in training really, but he was playing his part well but still learning, still making small mistakes but with his own baggage to find a place for before he became a full-fledged guard dog, but he would in time.

Then there was Michael, the explosions expert with an anger as explosive as his bombs, he wasn't so much a guard dog as he was a guard bear, always making Gavin a priority, always making sure to stick close to his ‘Boi’s’ side in an interrogation or a meeting, hard-eyed if you moved to threaten Gavin, but soft and caring to Gavin himself in the rough and tumble way that only one with such an explosive anger could have.

Dan concluded that was how the court of Midas was conducted, the butler, the banker, the mother, and the guard dogs. Gavin scoffed when Dan brought it up to him on the night before dan had to go back to England to run the SMG while they were standing alone on the balcony overlooking the city.

“Nah B, they stopped being part of my court five years ago, they’re my family now.” Gavin had said, Dan could have sworn that he had seen a dangerous glint in Gavin's eyes, one that he didn’t know the meaning of, one that made his skin crawl.

Dan went back to England assured that nothing would happen to his B, but still with a fear that he didn't really know where to place, or what the exact reason for said fear was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over, this is the last part of the Threats mini-series, I left it open so I can do spin-offs and continuations if you guys want it, and I most likely will tie off a few of the loose ends in the usual one-shots, so until then i leave you to your regularly scheduled one shots.


	18. Dizzy

“Don’t stand up yet.” Ryan muttered as Jeremy tried to get up.,his head spinning. Jeremy looked around the room, eyes wide and in a panic, the last thing he remembered was the fire fight, the rival gang shooting at them and trying to escape the burning warehouse. Nothing went according to plan, he and Ryan were supposed to sneak into the warehouse and take out the other gang's leader but everything went to shit soon after the duo had entered the warehouse.  
“Wh-what happened?” Jeremy croaked out, his vision focusing in on one of the three maskless Ryans, his head still throbbing and ears still ringing.  
Ryan sighed and put the book he was reading down on the side table, then fixated his icy eyes on the green haired Bostonian. “You don’t remember what happened?”.Jeremy shook his head, “A pipe came down from the rafters of the warehouse, knocked you out. You might have a concussion but it's nothing too serious, and before you ask you where you for only a day so don't worry. But I will have to ask that you not stand up, and to instead rest some more, I’ll bring you food in a few hours.” he waited for Jeremy to nod in understanding before he walked out leaving Jeremy to rest in the musty bed of the safe house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short I know but I just wanted to ty writing Lil' J's character, so bear with me and if anyone has any tips I'm open to suggestions.


	19. Convincing

"I've never seen someone hold their head so high while talking out of their ass" Geoff chuckled, holding the keys out for Gavin to take so he could drive.

Gavin, ever with a smile of gold to match his tongue, gave a gracious bow as he snatched away the keys from Geoff's hand, “Thank You, thank you, I appreciate having an audience every once in awhile that can see through my act. Reminds me I'm not the god I portray myself to be.”

The car was old, it was cheap, that was the most important part, a new coat of paint and a few modifications really made it worthwhile, though, and the small crew of only four was happy with it. Yea, Geoff had decided that Gavin was going to join the ragtag group of a gang, they needed an ass talker that could do a good job at convincing people he was higher than them even though he really wasn't. A good front man made a crew. Geoff also knew that Jack had long ago (Like last week when they had picked the brits skinny ass off of the streets) now all that was left was to convince the infamous Vagabond that Gavin was the front man they needed, it also helped that the Brit had a bit of a background with Hacking into high-security locations, as he proved just the other night when he had gotten into the maze bank, but still Geoff felt like the Mad Mercenary was going to be hard to convince.

Geoff tried not to let thoughts of how Ryan could possibly kill the skinny British prick that was currently driving the car ever so recklessly through the streets, somehow managing to piss everyone but the touchy, but overall lazy, LSPD. as the driving closer to the rundown, but overall better than what they had started out in, the apartment that was the crew's HQ, Geoff found himself worrying over the boy's health and ability to make first impressions more and more. Finally succumbing to his fears when he stopped Gavin from going into the apartment where he knew the Vagabond and Jack were waiting, “Look if The Vagabond seems a little unimpressed with you, it's no big deal really, he has nothing against you, it's just he's not really a people person if you know what I mean.” Geoff warned Quickly,watching Gavin's face as the boy gave a half-hearted reassuring smile that let his fears bleed through just a little.

“Geoff, I’ve handled a lot of people that don't exactly like me, I think I can handle this one too.” Gavin tried convincing him, he really did, but Geoff was a people person, and he had known Gavin on a personal level long enough to see beyond his mask he put on when he sweet talked someone. But the Mustached man let Gavin believe he had charmed him and just nodded, opening the door to the shabby apartment.

The reaction was almost immediate, once Gavin saw Ryan, his face lit up, “It's you!” he shouted, making the man in the black skull mask turn, his icy eyes going wide.

“It's you! I thought we agreed to part ways?” Ryan asked, hand twisting wanting to go for a gun on the table or the knife that was most likely in his pocket.

Gavin shrugged, walking over to the counter where Jack and Ryan were cleaning the guns, a confident bounce in his step, “guess the universe decided we were a good team and wanted us to work together again.” And the two started chatting like old pals.

Geoff threw Jack a confused look that was given right back to him, clearing her throat Jack got the two's attention “you two have worked together before?” She asked

Gavin nodded speaking before Ryan could explain “Oh yea, a few years back I was working in Liberty City and Ryan needed some help with something and came to me, we worked as a team for a bit but eventually parted ways In A mutual agreement. It's nice to see he's still alive.”

“I never thought you would make it to Los Santos though of all places, why not head back home?” Ryan questioned, an eyebrow-raising under the mask.

Again Gavin shrugged “Liberty city was getting boring, to stable, Landon is a drag, boring and grey all year round. I follow the jobs, the jobs led me here.”

Geoff finally found his voice again. “So.. All in agreement for Gavin to join the crew?” He got nods and a thumbs up. “It's settled then, Gav, welcome to the crew I guess, that played out a lot less dramatically than I thought it would.” He muttered to himself grabbing a bottle of whiskey. At least he didn't have to worry about anyone getting along.


	20. An Impossible Game

"I didn’t lie, I just twisted the truth slightly." The Golden Boy smirked, giving an ever so dramatic wave of his hands. Meg was not convinced. It had been three years since she had first tried to take in the front man of the Fakes. In that time she had risen through the ranks of the LSPD, whether because of sudden deaths of her coworkers or simply good performance it was all the same to her, she just wanted to take the Fakes down.

“You’re part of a large criminal organization, I don't care if you’ve lie or not, I’m bringing you in for questioning.” She fingered the gun in her hand threateningly. “Or if you’d rather I kill you now then say the word and I won't hesitate.”

A cold December wind blew through the alleyway. The cars whistled past the street at either end of the shady alleyway. Three years had been a long time for Meg, she had changed a lot since she had last had the Golden Boy at the end of her gun in a dark alleyway. It had been warmer then.

Gavin smiled, candy apple eyes unreadable, he had changed too, his masks had gotten thicker, but something told Meg that he still wasn't lying to her. “You took my advice to heart then? What was the bullshit line I gave you?” he made a show of pondering for moment one hand going to his scruffy chin in mock thought.

“Rule one of Los Santos: Learn quick or die young, you're smart so learn. That's what you left on the note when you broke into my apartment.” Meg recited, a strand of bright purple hair falling into her eye. Her finger still on the trigger, confident. “You also told me to have a plan when I wanted to start taking the Fakes down. And now I do.”

For once Gavin gave her a genuine smile, on that, reached his eyes. It had been a long time since he had given anyone outside of the crew a real smile. It was a smile filled with mischief, curiosity, bloodlust. It was not a kind smile, not the practiced one he had given her when she had first met him. “Oh really?” his voice dripped with poison, “Let me hear your plan then.”

Meg shivered, she blamed it on the cold. “How do I kill you and the rest of the crew. How do I keep you dead?” she asked

“So you caught on?” a chuckle played on his words she still felt the poison in them, “I was right you are smart. But I’m sorry love, I can't answer you this time.”

“Why the hell not?” she raised the gun again, fixing her stance from where she had let it fall, she wanted answers and was not afraid to kill the man - No he’s more of a monster now isn't he? - in front of her.

Gavin laughed, loud from the depths of his chest. “Because we don't know how to stay dead either! Don’t you think we would prefer it? Don't you think we want to die?!” the poison was gone, all that remained was a sad malice in his laughter, this time, Mag admitted to herself she was scared of him. “Look, love, I appreciate your trying to help,but face it, we have an unfair advantage,you won't win against us, no one will. Not you, not the police, not even entire nations, you heard how I got out of jail right? So rule number two of Los Santos: don’t try to take down the Fake AH Crew, nobody can, it's impossible. It's easier not to devote your life to it. Think of it as a game that is always rigged against you. There really is no way to win.” he brushed past her as he talked, her gun lowering as she listened. There really was no way for someone like her, a normal person that only has one life like her, to win against men that were seemingly immortal, against men that could be killed a hundred times and still somehow bounce back as good as new.

“I won't stop trying you know. At the very least I'll get you off the streets.” she suddenly spoke up, determination building up, or maybe it was denial over the last three years she had spent piecing together the rules of the game just to find out it was impossible to win. “If I’m really lucky your death count has a limit, if I kill you enough maybe I’ll reach it.”

The Golden Boy chuckled, dark, cold, like the December wind. He had lost hope of dying long ago. “Good luck with that love. If you somehow do reach the limit you have my thanks.” he stepped out into the crowd scurrying by on the sidewalk, thrums of people eager to get home and take shelter from the biting cold after a long work day, and he was gone, absorbed into the throngs of no one's, the Golden Boy of the Fakes was just another sad sorry soul that wanted to get home. Meg was left shivering in the cold her white knuckles clutching the handle of her gun, her mind racing with loose ends trying to connect them. She was absolutely lost, the game was never hers to win.


	21. Confessions

“Thought I could take the heat, but I’m not able.”Ray was quiet, reserved. It had been three years since he had talked with anyone from the Fakes. But here he was having a normal conversation with Geoff, leader of Ray's former crew and family, over coffee at the shity coffee shop just a block down from the penthouse. No one else knew ray was in town, the Puerto Rican wanted to keep that part under wraps, but at the same time he wanted to give Geoff a good explanation as to why he left, that's why he was there, a cold coffee in hand as he looked anywhere but his former boss. “I really thought I could take it, and for a while, I could, but - gah! I don’t know.”

“Ray, I get it.” Geoff was a kind man with a hidden heart of gold kept under a tight chain, he learned from experience and knew from practice, “You don’t have to worry we, all get it. No one in the crew is mad at you, a little sad still that you left, yes but mad? Never. All the anger that was there when you first left was there because we never expected you to leave, we’ve accepted it. We get it.”

Ray sighed, that was good, great really, one weight of his chest, but there was something bigger he needed to tell, Geoff another reason he left, “I’m not Immortal you know.” ray glanced at Geoff to gauge his reaction, “That was another big reason.”

Geoff’s eyes went cold, calculating, like How Ray remembers Ryan's eyes being that night the Vagabond tracked him down to the crappy motel in Nevada, as he thought. “DO you want us to offer protection?” he asked voice low and tired, for once betraying his impossible age.

Ray shook his head, “No, I got you of the crew so that you wouldn't have to worry about me dying and suddenly not coming back like the rest of you. And I don't want to worry now, I just came back to explain things to you, you of all people have the right to know why I left. And I did, so if you’ll excuse me, I have to go, I've still got jobs to do.” with that ray left, leaving a twenty to pay for the coffee. Geoff let him go without a word.


	22. Justifitions

There was a new Sheriff in Los Santos. An ex-fed with a track record that really should have put him in prison himself. But he was effective, so instead, he was assigned to the most crime ridden city in America, and considering how widespread RoosterTeeth's string of gangs were, that was saying something. This new sheriff, this Kerry Shawcross, somehow was actually managing to clean up the streets, muggers were being snatched, and put away, mercenaries that hired the muggers not far behind. Money was staying in banks and the Fakes seemed to be losing their foothold and but god were they mad about it.

The Fakes anger over how Shawcross was pushing them out was evident in the way the Gang thematics increased, heists that almost failed were always more grandiose than the last, bigger plans, bigger explosions, bigger kill counts and bigger payoffs. Shawcross responded with more cops, better response times and military escorted transactions. The city was on edge and primed for a power shift if Shawcross could pull the LSPD through it until the end and the Fakes finally got sick of the losing cat and mouse chase. The city held its breath, in anticipation of the long-awaited break in its crime-ridden chains and the change never came. Instead, the armed guards were lessened, the fakes started getting away with some of their heists, not all but enough to where they could pull back and lower the death count again, and nobody understood why. Why would Shawcross let the Fakes have their foothold again? The city wondered.

The city didn't understand when it ridiculed Shawcross as another good cop turned dirty and loyal to the Fakes. When the city cried for an explanation from the New Sheriff that had done so well in the beginning the new Sheriff didn't give a cry back, kept silent about the night when everything changed, the night he was finally conned into thinking about why the Fakes ran the city and how much worse it would be without them, the Night the Golden Boy of Los Santos sat in his office and changed his mind.

The night had been like another, tired and coffee filled as he hastily made sure the office was clear of all but the night shift and possible bombs that could have been placed through the day. Deeming his work done, and himself a little too tired to be doing anymore, Kerry, was about to grab his coat, his keys punch out an leave. His office door was open, and he was awake again because he distinctly remembered leaving it closed, and drew his gun. You could never be safe in Los Santos.

His desk light was on when Kerry pushed through the door, gun aimed at the menace carelessly longing in his office chair, American and British flag converse ripped up on his desk and gold rimmed aviators in natural blond hair. The Golden Boy smirked at Kerry while he stood there confused.

"When the hell-" Kerry started but smartly shit up when the Golden Boy raised his hand for silence. He Knew the rumors, officer Turney told her stories, Kerry took them as all true and did not want to piss this man off.

He sat when the Golden Boy waved a hand at one of the chairs usually saved for those who had a meeting with him for various reasons, conduct, more info on a case, to talk about another case, that sort of stuff. It was humiliating for the Chief of Police to sit in one when a grade A criminal was behind his own desk.

"You don't know why I'm here do you?" The Golden Boy started, smile as sharp as daggers cutting into his words.

Kerry almost hesitated, "Is it because I'm Pushing you out of your city?" he guessed

The Golden Boy raised a raised eyebrow, his act so good Kerry didn't know if his surprise was genuine, "So you do have a brain? Well then, let's just skip to the fun part." he sounded all too chipper as he practically bounced out of Kerry's Chair and a gold butterfly knife in hand now moved in front of Kerry, leaning against the desk, carelessly twirling the thing around, maybe purposely showing the hilt of his infamous gold-plated pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans. "Me and my crew are not the bad guys." He stated, like the six of them did not kill a few dozen people a day, ' we are early the people who keep the worse people away. We're more of the Anti-heroes"

Kerry couldn't help but scoff at the motion of the Fake Ah Crew being anything less than the worse, "I'm sorry, but did you just say you guys weren't the worse? Who could possibly be worse than you six?"

The Golden Boy frowned, "The Big men up top for one, the ones that define right and wrong, who use those definitions to obtain their own goals." he shrugged, "Men and women like that I suppose if you want an example."

Kerry watched the Golden Boys mask slip, for just a second. From cold and calculating to something more, a destructive light from within that just wanted to watch the world burn

"It's so easy to destroy and condemn the ones you do not understand." The Golden Boy started speaking again, mask back in place, but that underlying passion still glowing through it, " Do you ever wonder if it's justified?"

Kerry blinked, "I'm sorry what?"

"Going after the people others tell you are bad. That's your job, isn't it? Do you ever wonder if it's justified."

"Do you ever wonder if it's Justified to take the life of another Human?" Kerry shot back, he was being played with before but now he wasn't so sure, the bags under the Golden Boy's eyes might have turned this hustle into some sort of philosophical debate.

The Golden Boy Chuckled, cold, humorless and full of scorn. "Of course it is! Everything I do is Justified because I Say it's justified, you pleb. Who else do I need to justify it for?"

Kerrys face screwed up in disgust "How can any human have this much disregard for human life?" he asked, "Much less Six all at once."

The Golden Boy fell silent then, fixed Kerry with a blank look before smiling, broad and wide and dangerous, the desire to watch the world burn back in his apple green eyes. "How can I Have this much disregard for human life you ask? Well, it's because I'm not quite human Myself." his voice when deep, almost threatening and still managing to send a shiver down Kerry's spine.

Every move the Golden Boy made to walk to the door made Kerry flinch, something changed. This Golden Boy - while still lanky, and overall still physically not threatening- become the most dangerous thing in the station. Kerry didn't like it.

"Oh and Kerry? It might do you good to lay off on the work, let us take over running the city again. Might do good for your stress levels." Golden Boy, hummed. Voice still with the dangerous edge that sent shivers down Kerry's spine.

Every Time the City cries out now for Kerry to do something, to drive the Fakes out, he remembers that night, and the danger laced in the Golden Boys voice. Every time he makes a move against the Fakes he gets a note, a sticky note on his computer, scribbled on words, 'do you think it's justified?' Were enough to make Kerry pull back. Officer Turney wasn't wrong about the Golden Boy having the city in his pocket. Kerry just never expected to be his newest addition. So now he was left with a question, "Does he think it's justified?"

Kerry Shawcross, Chief of Los Santos police, Ex-Fed, wouldn't be able to do anything for or against the fakes without answering that question first.

"Is it Justified?"


	23. Godly

Gavin was five when his parents told him never to let anyone know. The secret was only for them. But he was a curious child, wide-eyed and wanted to see the world, so his parents coddled him to make sure he never let the secret slip. In the early years, it had been a fear, something that held Gavin back, something that terrified him. The thoughts if others finding out terrified him.  
Then he met Dan

Dan showed him the truth, Dan showed him what his secret meant. What it made him. What Gavin was without the fear of holding back and hiding.

Gavin was thirteen when he met Dan. In days they were inseparable, each other's other half. Gavin kept Dan from the worst of crimes and Dan showed Gavin what the world could be when one was equipped with a 'no holds back' attitude, they had fun commuting petty crime and picking pockets. Gavin felt more alive than he ever had been.

Gavin was fifteen and running away with Dan when he first got cut. His half-forgotten secret bubbling from the fresh wound. It wasn't a bad cut, just a skinned knee, but it was enough to break skin and bring forth the secret for Dan to see.

Gavin half expected Dan to call him a freak, to run away or turn him into the government for experiments he didn't expect Dan to gape, to stare in awe, to whisper in shock "why didn't you say anything?"

Gavin just have him a confused look, why was he treating this like a good thing?

"You don't know?" Dan had asked in disbelief, "it's Ichor, you have the blood of gods B."

And so it was. Dan showed Gavin that he was imbued with the blood of gods, and gods deserve the best in the world right? So the two were on a mission to spoil Gavin rotten. Climbing the ranks of England's underground with their sheer brutality, becoming the SMG and gaining the wealth of England in a year out classing any other gang. Then things went wrong. And Dan drug Gavin on a one way trip to Library City with nothing but the clothes on his back, his hacking phone, and a few thousand in cash. He was left with next to nothing, so he made something of it.

Eighteen was the age Gavin met his best friend and first of four loves. Michael Jones first replaced Dan as Gavin's body guard. The Jersey boy was a hot headed brawler with a talent for explosives as dangerous as his temper. Michael had saved Gavin from literally being backstabbed by a crew after a little too shady if a deal with one of the east coast's most untrustworthy mobs. Their friendship exposed like dynamite, their criminal careers blew up much the same. The duo terrorized the east coast as Team Nice Dynamite for two years before heading west per-request of one Geoff Ramsey of Rooster fame wanting them in his new crew in Los Santos. With clams to fortune like that, how could they refuse?  
Gavin had a perfect life at twenty-four. A crew that ruled Los Santos, two beautiful girlfriends one handsome boyfriend and more wealth than he knew what to do with. He was living the life of the god he was while keeping that fact a secret.

Then he got shot.

It was stupid. The four of them were not on a heist, they were not doing any harm, they were just out on a date, a simple walk around the city. The sniper shot came out of nowhere.

They all heard the gunshot, it was not an uncommon thing in this city, people around them screamed and ran while the four of them exchanged confused expressions. It wasn't until Meg screamed his name, and Michael swore, rushing toward to support Gavin that the Golden Boy felt any pain from the flesh wound the bullet had left in his side. Lindsey took Gavin's other side, pressing onto his bleeding wound, and unknowingly getting liquid gold on her hands. The shock and panic of Getting Gavin somewhere safe kept them from noticing his secret right away.  
It wasn't until they were in a stolen car, Michael driving them to the nearest safe house, that any of the three realized. Through a pained haze, Gavin carefully observed the girls reactions, it was his job, after all, observe and react. That's how he'd stayed alive all these years.He watched each girls pretty eyes go wide, their faces ashen, hesitating just a moment before their resolve strengthened and they went back to trying to stem the bleeding.

It was well after his wound was cleaned, sewn and bandaged that anyone said anything. They were sat in a circle on the shit brown couches that had come with the shit brown safehouse Michael had bought in the suburbs. It had been the closest and most well stocked. Gavin's wound sent sharp pains jackknifing whenever he breathed the white bandaged being stained from Gold still seeping out from between black stitching. The growing golden stain bare for all to see considering the Golden Boy haven't put on another shirt. The stain served as a testament, proof that he wasn't lying, that they weren't all just going crazy.

Gavin's heart ignored his pain and instead focused on the silence. He had divulged his story, everything. From his parents to Dan, in hopes of explaining himself, of getting them to understand why he didn't tell them before. After all these years spent learning to read people, he knew the growing silence was not a good sign. With every passing second, his heart was trying harder to beat out of his chest.

"So..." Meg broke the silence, always one to make up her mind on a complicated matter first. "Is your blood, or whatever is running through you, like 100% gold or just gold colored?"

Gavin shrugged, "Donno, I never exactly had testing done to see."

"So you just need gold and no one thought to have it checked out?" That was Michael, surprisingly calm, exasperated, but calm.

Gavin shrugged again, biting back a hiss of pain. "My parents didn't wan't me taken away. And nothing was physically wrong with me and it never happened with my siblings. There was no want or need for it I guess."

 

It was Lindsey's turn to ask a question "and you never thought to tell us any of this before?" Her question, pared with the almost betrayed, mostly heartbroken time made him flinch. There it was, that's the heartache he was expecting.

Despite his own uncertainty he had to answer, "I-I didn't want you all to treat me different." He admitted, the words doing little to portray how true they were. He was fine playing god for those who look in, but being treated like a god by people you care about was no fun.

There was a scoff from Michael, "No we would- oh..." he stopped himself mid sentence realizing yea, he would have treated Gavin differently whether Michael would have thought the Brit was crazy or went running scared it would have been treating him differently.

"We won't treat you any different now that we know." Meg picked up were Michael dropped off, watching the British frontman relax his shoulders just a bit. "But we should warn the rest of the Crew."

The others nodded, Gavin shook his head no, sinking into himself.

"Gavin we have to." Lindsey tried

"What if something like this happens again? You know the others will freak out." Michael put in.

"B-Team could take a few samples, determine if there's a match. Baby what if you need a blood transfusion and they can't get their hands on something to substitute?" Meg finally convinced him.

The four called for a crew meeting. It happened fast. The main team and B-team gathered and the four of them explained. There were mixed reactions of course. Done in disbelief, others in shock, more still were just plain curious. None of them would back down from his 'Golden Boy' title even if he wanted to now. Of course, there were tests to be had and needles to be prodded into his skin. The results were odd, his blood was just molten gold but still blood all the same. It could even be substituted with O negative. Trevor had determined that normal blood would assimilate and turn gold once it entered his bloodstream.

Whatever research Gavin could dig up was just legend, gods of all religions old and new with liquid gold running through their veins, kings with hearts of gold and blood to match all of it bullshit, all of it just old stories. He was the genuine article.

He was the Golden Boy after all.


	24. Caffeine

//Full disclosure! I know next to nothing about caffeine overdoses and all of this is pulled from common sense and a tiny bit of research on the topic, so I'm sorry for any and all inaccuracies!//

Gavin Free was a Hacker. Pulling all-nighters was practically in the job description. They happened often enough when he was only in the SMG with Dan, but then the Fake AH Crew roped him in and the all-nighters turned into all weekers. His caffeine intake, which had already been dangerously high, had only been going up since then. But the Crew watched him, careful eyes kept track of how much he had. Just to make sure It never happened again.

The It referred to here was a month long project of Gavin's, or maybe it was several important projects he needed to get done and he managed to do them all in a month. Either way, it boiled down to Gavin hardly slept for a month, and the crew noticed. Well, more accurately Jack and Ryan noticed, the others blew it off as the Brit working through a few bouts of insomnia that he was known to have, almost as frequently as Ryan really. But that was only the first month.

The second month saw Gavin getting worse. Daily the Hacker was spotted with either a straight black coffee or an energy drink close at hand. Jeramy even swears he saw the Brit pour a half full monster into his fresh coffee before downing it and running off. Gavin's sunglasses hardly came off during this month. Looking back it was a way for him to hide the dark circles and everything else. The persistency of his false Golden Boy act, the not Gavin act, got the rest of them concerned. But not enough to intervene.

The third month was when ugly consequences reared their head. They were planning a heist- nothing big, just enough for people to be reminded of who they were- and of course the planning had landed in Gavin's overworked lap.

At this point, the Brit was running on half an hour of sleep three days ago. But still, he managed to pull through. Though he was pretty sure his blood was more caffeine than water at this point. He could still hide the shaking in his hands though, and nausea, and the pickup in heart rate, the anxiety was getting harder but he would manage, so he was good to go. Forcing the issues away with his gold-rimmed sunglasses and a cocky smile. Thankful yet again that the crew fell in line with his Golden Boy act as much as anyone else. The last thing he needed was to be forced into bed and falling behind on his work.

The heist day came and Gavin downed four pots of coffee with monster moved in before they rushed out the door. For once in the last few months, he actually felt away. Unfortunately, he also felt the heart palpitations- irregular and uncomfortable skipped beats and adrenaline- in the car. Geoff commented on his hands. They wouldn't stop shaking anymore. He laughed it off as nerves. They hadn't really pulled a heist all together in a while, no one questioned it.

The palms of Gavin's hands were sweaty making his grip on his beloved golden pistol slick. He could feel worried eyes, probably Jack or Michael, follow him as they stormed the small time bank, his head was light and black spots danced in his vision. He didn't realize his was vomiting until he zoned back in on Michaels' voice calling his name. Gavin's vision blinked into focus for just long enough to see Michael, worried and mask off, re rest of the crew fending off cops but sending worried look their way. His ears were ringing but he knew they were confused and being vocal about it.

Gavin was not stupid, despite the way he acted most days. He knew what was happening, he knew what he had been pushing these past few months, he just didn't expect the caffeine overdose to take him in the middle of a heist. He felt his heart lurch, pain flaring up and everything was too fast, blood roared in his ears. He didn't hear the strangled cry he gave as he fell into Michaels' arms, the final stage had come, cardiac arrest. A heart attack.

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Michael was easily freaking the fuck out. Gavin had been all sorts of off for the past few months, red flags going off for Michael when Gavin turned down swimmy bevs last month. But Gavin had been shaking and pale on the ride over, his excuse was bullshit and they all knew it. But none of them has the heart to call him on it. The reasoning of Gavin being a big boy that could handle his own issues being the reason behind it. Shit officially hit the fan once they were in the bank. 

Gavin had followed them in with a stumble, almost like he was on autopilot. There but not really, not fully. All his shots missed, he hardly ever missed. Geoff had barked an order for Michael to cover Gavin, he obeyed of course. Geoff's tone had been strict, and the worry for his boi made him move quickly to pull Gavin into cover.

Then Gavin started puking.

It was guttural. It sounded like it hurt. Lumpy black sludge splattering in the ground. Michael didn't know much about health and shit like that but he knew enough that he knew black sludge was bad, like every bad, like blood was pooling In his stomach.

"Gavin? Gavin!" Michael called, he was practically holding Gavin up now. The Brit had stopped shaking but his breath was labored, half focused green eyes looked up at him then roamed the firefight. Then Gavin screamed, convulsed and stopped breathing.

"Oh fuck, fuck fuck, Gavin!"

Michael laid his boi down, checking for a pulse as he did. There was none. Michaels vision tunneled. Gavin was dead. Michael would never admit to the tears that stung his eyes.

The explosive expert was shoved back into reality when he was shoved out of the way, Jack was over Gavin's body, careful hands flitting over the dead Brit, looking for a pulse, looking for a bullet wound. Then she went on to mouth to mouth, CPR, chest compressions, doing her damnedest to bring him back. Michael could only watch, shocked, probably pale, unarmed and frozen in terror. He was an open target to the end of the firefight. Ryan and Jeremy cleaning up the rest of the first wave of cops, Geoff was on the phone with what Michael assumed was Trevor, probably getting orders on how to resuscitate Gavin.

Michael likes to say he didn't pay attention much to the frantic ride to Trevor's care - a good hospital across town that really didn't give the guy the respect he deserved, it was really the reason Trevor even helped the Fakes, they simply treated him better - but he remembers almost vividly the raspy breaths, the way Gavin would gag and cough, blood pooling at the corners of his mouth. The two times they had to pull over so Jack could resuscitate him again. Michael couldn't take his eyes off the short and quick rise and fall of his bois chest, or the lack thereof in some cases. It was a shorter trip than usual anyway.

 

It was a full day before the Fakes got any sort of info on Gavin's condition. At this point, anything that pointed to him being alive was welcomed. Then Trevor had sat them in his office, a refurbished storage closet really, he only put up with the hospital because the Fakes couldn't promise a hospital like setting yet.

"Do any of you know how bad Gavin had gotten?" Trevor Asked with venom in his tone and a glare hat softened when tired eyes swept over the tired and worried gang turned misfits family. Sighing Trevor decided to skip the rest of his lecture, the guilt was already there, he wouldn't pour salt on an open wound, "He overdosed."

Geoff, always the fearless leader, couldn't keep the fear out of his voice, "He overdosed?"

Trevor gave a solemn nod, "A caffeine overdose, without running any more tests we can assume he's been on the brink of one for a while. The last heist must have pushed him a little too far."

"Can you fix him?" Geoff was up and out of his seat, Pacing around the small space, usually half awake eyes burning. It was Jack who asked.

The hesitation from Trevor made all their stomachs drop. Michael clenched his hands into fists, knuckles turning white, "He's comatose right now. Don't worry, it's medically induced, We're going to keep him under until the caffeine clears his system. It can take a few days. I'll run a few tests after he wakes up, diagnoses him, then we'll talk about treatments."

"Bullshit!" called Jeremy, sans his usual purple and Orange attire, "Bullshit Trevor! I know you know so tell us. Hold nothing back." a pistol was in Jeremy's hand, the click of the gun's safety coming off echoes in the room.

Trevor was surprisingly calm for a man with a gun pointed at hs head, "He will recover. The worst will probably be a caffeine sensitivity, maybe irregular heartbeats at worst, my best guess would be a caffeine addiction. You guys will have to help him with that."

They cleared out with the information. All five of them needed rest, none of them really got any, the penthouse one to empty to feel at home.

Michael visited Gavin over the course of three days, the first day the mighty Mogar was pale faced and tired. Hunched over in defeat. He sat quietly as the Golden Boys side. Said Hacker seems more silver, skin ashen deep dark circles etched under his eyes, a testament to the reason he was in the hospital in the first place. Mogar stormed out in a rage only an hour later. One Nurse whispers she saw tears. The second day was less eventful, but louder. Anger in Mogars eyes. He was on and off the phone, tone calm not without poison. He talked business. Passersby were smart to forget about what. He left at dusk, triumph in his eyes. The third day was silent. Just the Mogar standing vigil in the uncomfortable plastic chair. His position as the Golden Boys guard dog running strong in his sense of loyalty. He didn't leave that night.

Trevor woke Gavin on the fourth day. Michael stayed, wincing at every answer the Golden Boy croaked. It was a back and forth, Trevor asking and Gavin answering.

"How many hours of sleep have you gotten in the past Week?" Trevor would ask  
Gavin wouldn't hesitate to answer, but he wouldn't make eye contact with either of them, "An hour and a half."

"Do you know how much caffeine you have consumed in the past week?"

"No."

"Did you know you were addicted to caffeine?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell the rest of your housemates about your addiction?"

"No."

"Did they ever find out?"

"No."

"Were you actively hiding it."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I had to much work to do. I couldn't fall behind."

"Do you regret not telling them?"

"Yes."

Suffice to say the crew was a little more adamant about making Gavin sleep a somewhat reasonable amount after his release from the hospital, Michael the enforcer most of the time. The Fakes wanted this to never happen again. And what the Fakes wanted, they always got.


	25. Opposite

Michael was never really a people person. It was why he became well versed in explosions and guns than anything. It was why he usually let Gavin do the talking whenever the two were sent out on deals. But Gavin was on lockdown after working himself to the point of collapsing from nearly a week straight of trying to crack a particularly complicated code so the crew could get an armored art transport schedule. It didn't help that everyone else was busy at the time Gavin was supposed to meet with a potential buyer, so it was left to Michael to pick up the slack and ensure a quick profit on the turnaround. Whatever the hell that meant.

So that the gist of how the Fakes demolition expert ended up sitting at an empty booth at a bar on fifty-first street waiting for a potential buyer to show up. All the while Gavin was rattling off advice, half drunk with exhaustion and coming off of the caffeine high he had put himself on.

"Oh! Here she comes!" he must have smuggled his laptop into the bedroom Geoff had locked him in and was watching through the bars security feed. " I'll listen in and tell you what moves to make but remember, it's all about attitude. Be catty, be flirty... basically be the opposite of your bitter angry self."

Michael had to stifle a chuckle as he watched the lady come in. she seemed like the type that would pay big for a bunch of scribbles with a bullshit meaning behind it. A real mink fur coat, gray hair all done up nice and so much gold draped around her neck and fingers that even Gavin could call her tacky.

"Go and greet her." Gavin urged, "Yea the lady with too much fake gold. That's the one." Michael obeyed, greeting the lady she told him to call her Miss. Grey, and led her back to his booth.

She was quick to the point, "I'll only pay the amount I specified. Your Golden Boy knows that and I know he's listening." she seemed to glare at one of the security cameras.

Michael heard Gavin groan on the other end of the earpiece. "She's offering Fifty Thousand for a piece that's worth twice that." the brit explained, "repeat after me."

So Michael did, haggling her to a more acceptable price, doubling the sum she had to pay. Michael followed Gavin's orders to a T, staying composed when she flew off the handle and dropping the slightest of threats when he had to. The explosives expert just barely kept his hands from shaking when he and Miss. Grey came to a deal and he shook her hand. He waited until he was back home in the unusually quiet penthouse to let out a sigh of relief, seeking out Gavin almost immediately and quickly finding the brit, already in bed nodding off, a sleek laptop he shouldn't have on his bedside table. Michael didn't hesitate to slip in next to him.

"You did a good job boy." Gavin gave him a sleepy mutter.

"Your job is harder than it looks. "Michael gave back in a whine.

Gavin Just chuckled, "No more deals until I'm free again."

"Agreed."


	26. Return

Ray hated how familiar Los Santos was still. Even after three years the festering city still felt like home. He had hoped it wouldn't by now. The skyline from his perch atop a skyscraper of apartments breathed back memories of better times, adrenalin filled and less lonely days with the summer wind. It almost made him regret taking the offer.

The offer. The Corporates offer. The one that had dragged Ray back to this shithole city on the Road of lost souls. The offer Ray really couldn't refuse because it was good money and at this point, he would take what he could get. The offer that was practically impossible. The offer, if Ray was being honest; and he rarely ever was, more of an order really to take out the Fake AH Crew.

Even now, black sniper primed and ready to fire - he had done away with the flashy pink years ago when he was recognized too often- he rolled his eyes at the thought of following through with the offer. The Fakes would never die. He knew that much. They were all too stubborn to. Sheer stubbornness aside though, they were immortal.

The immortality was a gift, Ray knew that much, a gift given by gods long forgotten by history. A gift no one had know could be taken away. Ray knew that fact from personal experience. It was why he left the Fakes in the first place; his immortality had been taken away. He was mortal again. He could age, could grow, could taste the bitterness of liquor and the sweetness of sugar and the sharp pain of death. The taste of the world was what was taken when they became immortal, it was odd how that worked out, but it was a small price compared to the gift given.

The beat helicopter crash through Rays musings. Looking down the familiar scope he spotted the masterpiece of a spectacular shit show only the Fakes could put on. A cargobob flying over the city carrying a working tank on its hook, something he's done with them once, for a heist that had failed, back when he was still immortal. It was a stupid plan. One that was meant to fail, but somehow they still got profit from it.

Ray went through the missions on automatic, practiced, hands working on their own as his eyes tracked the target. Scope trained on the pilot's seat - either Gavin or Jack was in the pilot's seat, they were the best pilots out of all of them- slowing his breath, in, out, in, watching the center rise and fall with just breathing. Clock the safety off. Breath in, hold, squeeze the trigger, focus.....

He barely felt the knockback, to familiar, to used to it. The cargobob quickly fell from his scope, leaning back away from the scope to look at the bigger picture he could see it falling, disappearing behind the skyscrapers. He waited for the explosion before he started taking alert his rifle.

Ray grimaced, he had told himself not to feel guilty or remorseful beforehand. But he had expected his feelings to disobey. He was almost concerned when he felt nothing, no guilt, no nothing. You would think killing your once adopted family would prompt some sort of emotional reaction, right?

Ray smiled. Slinging his packed away rifle over his shoulder. His lack of remorse was good. Great really! He was free, no longer bound to the Fakes by past emotions, just pesky memory's he could easily suppress. He's down it before after all.

Rays shadow blended with the shadows of buildings and passersby on the street. The still familiar bustle. Of the festering city consumed him. He had missed this city. His phone buzzed in his pocket like so many others on the busy street he answered it falling in step with the crowd. "'yello?"

"You did a good job." The Corpirate voice was smooth, calculation, so much, unlike Geoffs.

"They'll be back you know," Ray warned, he could hear the Corpirates hum of agreement. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay a while. I missed the city."

The Corpitate chuckled on the other end. "It sounds like a good bargain. Your payment is waiting. It's a pleasure doing business with you Brown Man."

"And you as well sir." Ray managed before the line went dead. A certain bounce to his step. A long familiar smirk playing on his face. This would be fun, he could tell already.


	27. Eternity

Part of Return series.

The long night had been filled with a tense sort of quiet panic. The way their plan failed had put them all on edge. One sniper shot. Right through the cargo bombs windshield. A headshot that painted the cabin gold with Gavin's blood for the moments before they went crashing down. Each of them had their suspicions. Ryan said it was Edger, back to make their life hell until Ryan disappeared again. Jeramy thinks it's the Boston mob coming to reclaim Rimmy Tim. Gavin's terrified it's his Past catching up to him again, he keeps muttering about some Mark Nutt. Michael bit back his own fears of Feds coming to take them out to help Lindsay and Meg calm Gavin down. Suffice to say it was not a restful night.

Dawn was peaking over the horizon, painting the sky in reds, some as deep as blood, others as bright as fire. The sunrise colors bled into the restless stillness of the penthouse. Glinting in the half full whiskey glasses and shedding light on worried eyes. Neither Geoff or Jack had slept -unlike the others in their misfit collections of character they called a family, all huddled in their beds held in loving arms - they were too scared for that.

"I thought we ran him out of the city," Jack muttered, breaking the hesitant silence. She looked tired, too tired for a body of only thirty-two. Her eyes betrayed her age, her age a thing she had long since lost track of somewhere around two hundred. She thinks that was somewhere around the Black Plague she couldn't really remember. It all just kinda blended together into one long stretch of pain at some point.

Geoff hummed, tired eyes, just as old as Jacks, focused intently on the bloody sky. "I guess he's like us then. Too stubborn to let go. He just has to keep coming back."

Jack turned her eyes away to settle back and watch the red bleed into blue. "What do we do?"

"Business as usual." Geoff sighed, "we can't go to war without knowing who the enemy is."

Jack nodded once in agreement. "And if it is him?"  
Geoff downed the half full glass of whiskey like a shot before answering. "We go after him. Make sure our families safe. We fight, we win."

"And if we lose?" She knew they wouldn't, but she knew the answer anyway.

"We burn the place to the ground." Geoff was quick with the answer, "If he wants it that badly then we'll leave him with nothing but rubble."

Jack nodded again and they puddle into another silence. Lulled back into their own thoughts. If it was him, if Corpirate really was back then they would have to tread carefully. Because with as much power the Fakes had, Corpirate has more. He really could bring Edger or the Boston mob or the Feds or Gavin's mysterious Mark Nutt into the picture and tear them apart. Nothing really scared the Fakes more than being torn from one another. The Corpirate knew that and if not would figure it out. He could do the one thing the Fakes feared, so by extent they feared him.

'We never really do well with fear though' Jack couldn't help the smirk that accompanied the thought. 'Guess this will just be another bump on the road then.' It was faith that brought the thoughts into her musings, faith, and assuredness that the Fakes could handle anything and stand by one another through thick and thin. As Jack watched the city wake with the disappearing dawn, she couldn't help but feel that she was right.


	28. The Reasons why Neal Caffrey Hates Los Santos

Part of Return series  
There were quite a few reasons Neal Caffrey didn't like the city of Los Santos. The tragic was horrendous, the food sucked it was way too hot all the damned time, t wasn't New York, it never rained and all the criminals seemed to live and Breath Violence and murder. At least those were the reasons he gave Peter when the agent had first approached him for the case that would take them to the not so small blemish in the Golden Coast.

Of course, Peter didn't listen to Neals complaining and instead dragged the con man along, insisting the case would be fun - and don't get Neal wrong, stolen status from a penthouse Art Gallery was a blast to solve- but there was that ever looming presence that put both of them on edge. Peter couldn't place it, he didn't know exactly what dwelled in the city. But Neal could. He knew exactly what it was, he did his best to avoid confronting it.  
Neal's plan of avoidance seemed to work, until the last night of course. He and Peter had gone out for food -their hotels' food wasn't bad but it wasn't great either- when Neal suddenly felt eyes on him. Peter must have sensed something was off with his CI because the agent visibly tensed beside him.  
The street was nearly empty and unusually quiet. Not a strange sight for a Wednesday night in any city besides Los Santos. Neal inwardly flicked when he heated the unmistakable tipsy squawk of Recognition. "Caffrey? That you?"

Neal bit back a swear in favor of a smile that faded in intensity when he saw who the Golden Boy was with. (He had to admit. The Lads were an interesting and very intimidation trio).  
"Gavin." Neal started, watching Peter out of the corner of his eye, just to me sure he would see it coming if the agent did anything that might set the Lads off. "Long time no see how have you been?" Neal tried to keep the conversation light, quick, he should have known better.

Gavin Beamed sauntered up to Neal and threw a lazy arm over the CI's shoulders. A hand waving at the two other Lads as the Golden Boy started leading Neal away. Peter followed close behind, acting as a shadow and staying quiet. Probably recognizing the danger Neal was in. "No kidding Caffrey, it's been what? Five? Six years? You still owe me a drink. I won't the bet after all." Gavin babbled not so drunkenly as before.

"Do you did huh?" Neal muttered. The bet in question was one he almost forgotten about. Made on a night with too much to drink and too little money between the two cons. A night spent drinking cheap wine mixed with even cheaper alcohol with a fifteen year old Brit fresh from the boat looking to make a big start in America. A bet made to race each other to a family that would last an eternity -a word that meant two different things for two very different people- a thing Neal would later find out, long after the sly Brit was gone and the hangover kicked in. It was no surprise that Gavin had won the bet.

Neal slipped out from under Gavin's arm standing instead next to Peter. His hands raised in a way that showed he had nothing to offer and was apologetic about it. "Sorry Gavin, can't make food on that bet right now. Got a plane to catch early in the morning. Neal explained hoping the excuse was good enough.

He almost sighed when Gavin nodded and waved a dismissive hand. "Alright mate, alright. Next time though." Gavin assured before turning back to his waiting Lads.

It was a tense moment with the Lads fading into the maze of streets before Peter spoke, "so you're connected to the Fakes?" It wasn't accusatory, it was worried.

Neal shrugged, "Nothing official, I just Knew the Golden Boy before he was the Golden Boy."

Peter nodded "That's why you didn't want to come to Los Santos?"

Neal nodded again, not offering anything more. He already knew Peter was going to take into account his protest more in the future next time they had to go out of New York. Hell, Neal almost didn't want to go back to New Yorks anymore either. Word on the street says something big was brewing between the Corpirate and the Fakes. Both sides unpredictable and trigger happy. Who knows where the carnage could spread.

Sighing and shaking those thoughts from his head Neal turned on his heel. "Let's go home." He was more than ready to leave this city and its bloodshed behind.

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It was three months later, Neal was back in new York before he heard from Gavin again. The summer morning was quite, hot and humid. Just like any other in New York. And Neil was flipping through his mail while Mozzy went on about one thing or another next to him. One envelope caught his eye in the small stack of junk mail June sorted and labeled for him just to give the illusion of him Having a life. The one envelope was actually addressed to him, and it came from Los Santos. The writing in the envelope clearly Gavin's curly cue handwriting.

Neal hesitated to open it, but he could feel Mozzy watching him and decided the sinking feeling in his gut was probably nothing. The envelope only had one thing, one single piece of lined paper, one thing written on that paper

_'It's a shame, we never did go out for drinks.'_

Neal's brow furrowed as the sinking feeling in his gut started to rise in his throat, it tasted suspiciously like bile.  
"Neal, what does this letter mean?" Mozzy asked taking it from Neal To look it over so Neal could lean against the chair, he felt dizzy all of a sudden.  
Neal didn't get the chance to answer Mozzy, the shattering of a window and the sharp pain in his chest stopped him and instead sent Neal to the ground in pain. Mozzy over him, calling 911 and then probably Peter.

It's a shame, Neal we actually looking forward to that drink.

//AKA: I've been watching to Much White Collar and wanted to write about it. PS you should totally watch it if you haven't//


End file.
